


The Ghosts In Us

by IttyBittyTeapot (LittleSeedofDarkness)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bittersweet, Canon Universe, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Eventual Sex, Levi/Eren Yeager-centric, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Character Death, Pining, Pocket Watches, Post-Canon, Reincarnation, Romance, Tea, age gap, canon-divergence, canonverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2018-10-08 16:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 146,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10391235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSeedofDarkness/pseuds/IttyBittyTeapot
Summary: Two centuries after the end of the Titan War and Levi and Eren's tragic demise, Levi runs a bookshop in Trost. It's there he longingly waits for Eren's return to him as he has in each life since. Unfortunately, their domestic bliss is short lived, as once they are reunited troubles pile up like a looming storm on the horizon.At least the tea is good. And as always, Eren is beautiful.





	1. Part One - Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've completely revised this first chapter. I ripped it apart, put it back together and added some new details. After speaking with [sugarplumsenpai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarplumsenpai/pseuds/sugarplumsenpai) while I was working on chapter eight, she offered to be my beta, being that she was brave enough to try and wrestle the adverbs from my clutching fingers, and after reading this chapter, she touched on concerns I already had about it. I can't thank her enough for her suggestions, support and help, poking my evil adverbs, pointing things out that needed tweaking, restructuring, and the things that definitely didn't. And of course, the lovely talks about writing. <3
> 
> I really think this story is going to be so much better because of it, more emotional, detailed, and grounded. :D
> 
> She beta'd this revision, but I have also slightly edited the other chapters up to seven. Fully beta'd chapters start at eight. All mistakes that may be in here are my own. So enjoy the new and improved version of this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering." - Friedrich Nietzsche

  Levi shot up in bed, back drenched with sweat, the soaking sheets twisted around his legs. He sat silent, immovable as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, staring down at his hands in his lap. Fingers trembling on his thighs before he dragged them through wet hair, tightening them in the damp strands when he felt a shiver. This state always left him with the urge to feel the weight of a weapon in his hands. Still, he resisted the need to retrieve his knife and attempted to breathe. It was a comforting habit he found he possessed in all of his lives. Perhaps it grounded him, tethered him to something tangible, an article which he knew existed, an object which could provide protection. Though he knew nothing could shield him from the memories or the aching knot in his chest.

  He never grew accustomed to startling awake in this manner, never through all the decades, through all the lives had he learned how to be prepared for it, and not from that dream. It was a dream of a memory of a life and a death. He and Eren ripped apart. He knew the outcome. They would find each other, but it did nothing to alleviate the pain when it came upon him like this. Invading his sleep, forcing him to recollect every bloody moment. Reminding him in this lifetime, he had yet to reunite with Eren.

  Mercifully on this night, his mind, the fates, divinity or whatever it was, had graced him with the chance of living through their last eve together in that life along with those parts he didn’t want to see. It was an experience he wasn’t often given when he was forced to relive it. Usually, it was only the battle, and watching everything he loved obliterated.

  Though it provided a chance for him to see Eren again, to touch him, to feel the weight of his body upon him, his skin under his hands as devoted green eyes looked into his soul. Levi could nearly taste Eren smiling against his mouth as he traced his fingertips across his cheek under the weary circles below his eyes. His gentle touch a mnemonic of how much he treasured his flaws.

  The memory stabbed into Levi like the knife locked away in his bedside table, and he stared into his darkened bedroom, eyes narrowing as he searched for someone he knew wasn’t there. Often when this happened, it almost felt like if he closed his eyes long enough, when he opened them Eren would be there. He had tried before and failed, foolishly convincing himself afterward if he had only left them shut for one more second, his efforts would have succeeded.

  Resisting the need to try yet again, he groaned, stretching sore muscles which felt far too tight for his skin and sat at the edge of his mattress, feet dangling above the cold floor below. He wouldn’t find any more sleep on this night. Rather than making an attempt, he pulled on his bathrobe to repel the chill his damp skin would bring and rose from his bed. Falling back into familiar patterns, he checked his pocket watch sitting on the nightstand, noting it was 2:14 AM before he shuffled out toward his kitchen, preparing to make a pot of tea.

  The board under his foot creaked as it always had when he stepped over the threshold and into the living area beyond. He attempted to repair it numerous times, but nothing had ever stopped it for long. Another ghost of Eren, the particular piece of rough-hewn wood producing a resonating whine which sounded too much like a loose board in a house from the past. The board Eren always stepped on when he came to bed after him, Levi waiting half asleep under the blankets.

  It received a reprimanding, “shush” for its impertinence on his way to his cupboards before he took out his tea supplies. He lit the fire, poking the kindling and watching as the flames burst back into life, the welcoming heat flashing on his face for a moment before it settled into comfortable warmth.

  There wasn’t much wood left, and he suspected he would drink several pots during the night, so he added another medium-sized log for good measure. Placing his kettle on the stove, and his steeping pot next to it, he set about grabbing his sieve and a dented tin of green tea with Valerian root. He didn’t have much hope it would help, but there was a chance it may settle his nerves. Last was his teacup. He appreciated its roundness and the size of the rim. It fit perfectly between his fingers, not forcing him to stretch them uncomfortably, nor was it so narrow it caused his knuckles to pull and tremble as he held it at his fingertips.

  The visions came again as he cradled it in his hands, thumbs idly tracing its edge as he remembered Eren chuckling at him over his teacup collection during a time in a life when Eren’s hair had begun to silver. Levi wouldn’t really call it a ‘collection.’ It was just nine or ten he acquired over the decades and held onto. Most he retained for practicality, keeping them for their shape and size, though there were a few he enjoyed for other reasons. The texture of their finish against his hand was pleasant, or there was something beautiful about them.

  Thinking back on his lives, Levi recalled when he was the captain, he possessed a particular one which was quite precious. A cup he found somewhat silky to the touch if he could find the proper word to describe it. Eren had gifted it to him. It was his favorite, decorated with light strokes of blue glaze which formed tiny flowers below the edge. It felt comfortable against his lips the way Eren did, and the tea slid nicely between them from the rim when he took a sip, precisely how it felt when Eren breathed sighs into his mouth.

  He gave it to Levi only a few months before they confirmed his lifespan. Levi had known what Eren was, regrettably aware of his purpose from the first time he laid eyes on him while passed out in his titan body; The Sacrificial Lamb. An offering laid up for the ‘good of humanity’ to save them from extinction, though he was unprepared for the blow when Hanji had come to tell them of Eren’s death sentence.

  Squeezing the thin porcelain in his hands now, the pressure just shy of breaking it, he tensed his jaw and shut his eyes. His head bowing as shattered china and the splash of Earl Grey exploded behind eyelids drawn down tight as window sashes in winter. Milky white and sky blue fragmenting along with the splatter of brewed perfection, green eyes going wide, brown ones softening in sympathy, all blurring with the sting of tears which were forbidden to fall.

  He remained as he was, frozen in their past until the sound of the kettle’s whistle drew him back to the present. Its howl was shrill, though the interruption was welcome. Turning, he placed the cup on the wooden countertop with a soft ‘thunk,” and wrapped a cloth around the handle of the kettle before setting it on an old trivet beside the stove. Then with practiced ease, he set the sieve over the mouth of the steeping pot and placed in enough leaf for two cups before carefully pouring the boiling water over it.

  Taking solace in the familiarity of the routine and the scent of steeping tea, he moved his empty cup and pot to the heavy wooden table in his kitchen, sat down, and put his face in his hands. The time was drawing near, and it flooded him with both anticipation and agony.

  Dreams such as the one he awoke to always signified Eren was close, moving closer. Levi would find him soon, though he would have to start from the beginning again as he ever did. Pretending he didn’t love Eren yet, pretending he didn’t know him when he knew his soul as well as his own. Keeping the past and their love a secret, careful in conversation, avoiding mention of those times before.

  Looking down at the table, he noticed his hand clenched into a fist, nails digging painfully into his palms, revealing the indentations of small crescent moons in his skin when he uncurled his fingers. He shook them out and prepared his tea. Slow, calm motions he had repeated too many times in all his lives to count, the obverse of the frenetic hum inside both his body and mind, knowing he would soon join with Eren and begin again.

  In the past he made attempts to tell him of their history, allowed it to all pour forth only to have him think he was joking, being cute, or in the worst case, frightening him to the point he had run away and avoided Levi for over a year. This time he would be more cautious, employ a different method to reacquaint Eren with their shared past.

  A past he was only privy to after his life as the captain of the Survey Corps when they fought in the Titan Wars. When he had been Humanity's Strongest, and Eren had been Humanity's Hope, the life he now referred to as, ‘The Catalyst.’   

  His first memories of their past lives came during a life he had now determined to have been the next after The Catalyst, beginning roughly ten years after the previous ended with him and Eren both dying on the battlefield. He was near fourteen when the dreams started, though that time it had taken him well into his thirties to figure it out, a patchwork of memories, and memories of memories finally falling into place and the realization his last life had changed something. He could remember now, back before that lifetime, remember during those lives he didn't recognize the ones before, but ever since that one it had all flooded his mind with astounding clarity.

  It was something he still hadn’t figured out, but he banished his thoughts. Instead, refocusing on the present and checking his tea with careful examination. Finding its color and the strength of its scent acceptable, he poured himself a cup and leaned over the table, allowing the moist tendrils of steam to warm his face. Upon his first breath, it smelled homely and secure, lulling him like the fragrance of Eren did. After a second breath, his nostrils were assaulted with the odor of something sharp and acrid. The bitter twinge of the Valerian root intruding on his comfort as his dream and memories had.

  He laughed into his cup and took a challenging sniff of the liquid with a sharp inhalation, smiling darkly at how symbolic ordinary tea could be, the soothing drink finding a way to remind him of his sorrow. The memories’ constant need to chase him, at times leaving him wishing he could slay it all and erase them, allowing him a peaceful existence in the dark with no knowledge of their past.

  A pang of guilt settled in his stomach at the thought. Low and deep, right at the bottom, filling up the lonely shell he was until he was so full he was sure he may tear to pieces. Mere vapors of a man which had been something more, escaping into the aether like fog on a winter morning as the sun rose and burned it away, the tattered remnants of his body left mangled in his chair.

  Staring into his cup, he reflected on it, sipping tea that’s shade matched the wash of lazy sunrises with Eren, and he felt as if he was a ghost. It didn't feel like separate lifetimes anymore. Instead, it was like one long tired life, thousands of years in length, Eren fluttering in and out of it, sometimes there for decades, other times barely. Like the one when he found Eren finally, a vibrant twenty-year-old, meanwhile Levi was in his seventies, slowing down as the cruelty of time left him withering away.

  Though he was confident by now, it was providence, meant to be Eren would fall into his life. It happened that way, nearly always around this age. Eren was persistently close to a decade younger than him, and Levi wondered why it was. He would get a sense of him closing in as time wore on, feel him drawing nearer, the man he was inextricably bound to crossing the distance between them.

  He researched over the last two centuries, consuming every scrap he could find regarding such things, but they were scant. If other souls experienced what he had, they were as in the dark as him or keeping it a closely guarded secret. It left him only with his own theories, the piles of thoughts and experiences he had committed to paper, and an endless search which felt as though it would never come to a close. Mapping out their lives like a family tree, their names, their births, and deaths as best he could, what they did, when they ‘met’ was all he was left with. He included drawings in his collection as well, although their appearances never varied, Eren always the same Eren, blazing green eyes, explosively beautiful inside, passionate, precious, and so emotional.

  He didn't know if it was a conscious choice, didn't see how this worked, or why he always remembered and Eren didn't. More of a mystery was why the memories of their incarnations started after that life, and he could only surmise it was either punishment or a product of trauma.

  This time it felt different though, an electricity hanging in the air when he thought of him, thought of their meeting, knowing their stars were on the precipice of crossing again. Even now, as he sat at his empty table, itching shocks rode over his clammy skin, starting in his fingers and toes before it rode up his limbs and exploded in his middle. It was different all this life since the memories came washing back seventeen years ago, as though a storm hung over Levi, contained and roiling, building up in preparation to unleash itself, uncoiling and striking from the clouds it was born from. It built within him, his muscles winding up until he felt like a cat about to pounce.

  Though it did nothing to help, he had read the notes he had diligently written and buried during each previous life. Always committing them to the ground out in the forest by the tree he died under as The Captain, going to dig them up and retrieve them when he recalled their existence.  

  He could go to them now, he thought, finishing the last of his cup in an uncharacteristic gulp. He grimaced at the bits of leaf on his tongue, finding the paltry effects of the Valerian root not worth the price of an unsatisfactory pot of tea. Standing, he moved the basin, chucking the remaining brew down the drain. Desperate, driven more on instinct than conscious thought, he stood on his tiptoes, reaching to the highest shelf, and pulled down a tin of Earl Grey laced with lemon zest. It always gave him a buzz, and though he had sought peace when he awoke, he now sought an outlet which lay behind the locked door of his studio.

  Unable to remain still as he waited for the kettle, Levi set to adjusting his tea tins on the shelf, the feeling of metal and worn paper labels scribed with ink against the whorls of his fingertips, wrenching him back from his longing and rooting him to the floorboards beneath his feet. It tugged him from the abstract into the more material present, to a place where he could rip the apparitions out of his mind and pull them into his world. Nearly as real as the rag he now clutched in his hand as he hastily wiped at his counters.

  The sound of the kettle whistling again drew him from his task, Levi preparing his tea as hurriedly as he could, his jumpy fingers nearly knocking over his tin as he attempted to hold back his compulsion to draw. A puddle of hot water was left on the counter in his wake, as he rushed to his studio door and unlocked it, then quickly retrieved his tea, pulling in a breath he was afraid to take and went inside.

  The walls were covered in sheets of paper, precisely drawn renderings of Eren gracing each page. Though he ignored Eren’s eyes watching him from everywhere as he entered, knowing their propensity to tug him in. Some were old, having been buried under the tree during a previous life only to be dug up in the next, others from when he first remembered Eren in this lifetime, and many were fresh as the snow which now fell outside his window. Another sign Eren was getting closer, their ineluctable draw forcing them to each other, leaving Levi to take solace in his only outlet until the moment came, to draw him. Draw until the charcoal was all he could smell. Until his fingers were covered in carbon, the blackness of it smearing his arms, face, and chest while he brought Eren to life before him the only way he knew.

  He was unaware of where Eren dwelled, nor his age, but he knew he was near, and he would stumble into him soon. If it were as it had always been before, Levi would witness the unconscious recognition behind his eyes when they met. He would barely stop himself from falling to his knees, pulling Eren down with him, and weeping. Eren would unknowingly feel the attraction, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting together, magnetic, a fire burning between them, igniting like the frisking of a match.

  Even now Levi felt his muscles bunch, as he tore away a scrap of paper from his book and grasped a stick of charcoal in his hand, his mind tense, the point of a needle balancing on a bubble about to burst as he sketched Eren’s features. It was these times he could almost feel him again, like a phantom caressing him. The teasing touches Eren always left over his back, worshipping every muscle and bump of his spine, soft like the kiss of a butterfly, then the grasping and scratching, begging Levi to come closer when they were already joined and pressed as tight as could be.

  If he didn’t know better, he would swear if he looked where he felt it, marks would be left in their wake. He could taste Eren in his mouth, on his lips if he swiped his tongue over them, smell his sweat, feel the warmth of his body enveloping him. A vision too palpable to be mere memories.

  “A little longer,” Levi said to the four walls, attempting to console himself from that which made one inconsolable. Lachrymose as his hand swirled over the paper, frantic, scraping against the vellum as he brought Eren to life, feeling as if Eren’s hand were guiding him as he sketched the curve of his jaw, remembering how it felt beneath his fingers. Skin so dichotomously soft when compared to the heat of the fire inside him. Even softer were his lips, lips Levi could run his thumbs over for hours and never cease to be enchanted by their silkiness. The way they would open for him when they felt the touch of his own, how they trembled against him when he moaned, breathing into him.

  When he finished, he admired his work mournfully. He hadn’t set out to render him in this manner, but this was his glass Eren. The delicate, breakable, fragile Eren who lay underneath the roughness when he peeled it away, the Eren who only he saw that purely. It was the Eren who existed so close to the surface the night before they died, before he floated in light beckoning, “come back to me” as Levi lay dying in the dirt. Glass Eren who would have shattered had Levi not been with him.

  He hoped this time he would be able to show these to Eren, let him see all he had inspired over the long desolate years. See himself in the coal, his body in the clay. See Levi hadn’t forgotten him, and he would never cease finding him.


	2. Chapter 2

  Levi sensed Eren. Felt him like tendrils of fog teasing over his skin, calling him, begging for his attentiveness. He closed his eyes, shaking it away only for Eren’s presence to relentlessly cling. Looking down at his hands, he balled them into fists, holding them tight before stretching his fingers out as far as he could. Like watching in slow motion as they lengthened, his cramped knuckles cracking in appreciation of their new position after clutching the stick of coal for so long.

  It was as it was in his other lives when Eren would come home to him. How Levi would feel him as he as he moved nearer, over-filling him as the distance between them shrank. Leaving him with the sensation his skin was too tight, overflowing and pressing out from the inside with something he couldn’t yet touch.

  Levi always perceived Eren before he saw him and it was no different now. An excited jump would thump in his chest when he became aware of Eren about to return to him. Though this was the first time Levi had felt it in this lifetime, it was as familiar as it was at any other time in the past.

  It was as if Eren would open the door and walk inside as he did in their other lives. As though they had never been separated, something Levi was so accustomed to he could almost convince himself it never stopped. Levi could see him if he closed his eyes and remembered, hear the jiggle of the door handle before Eren came inside if he tuned his ears well enough. Eren announcing to Levi he was back home then wrapping his arms around him as he used to even after the shortest time apart.

  The embrace didn’t come though, and Levi looked forward like he was looking into oblivion, hands flexing in anxiety as he sat in his studio. They closed together with an inaudible clap as if in prayer, the tips of his fingers pressing against his lips as he leaned his head forward and closed his eyes.

  Thirty-two years Levi had waited since his birth, seventeen since remembering Eren, thirty-nine if he counted forward from the time of his previous death. No matter which number he thought, it was too long.

  He shivered while he pondered the passage of years wasted, the muscles in his back stretching as he leaned further down, head nearly to his knees, breathing deep before throwing his hair back and standing. Eren had to be here, somewhere nearby. It was torture knowing he was barely out of his grasp now, the Eren would appear before him soon, and Levi would be forced to start with him anew.

  Like standing at the edge of a cliff waiting to take flight but sure his wings would fail him. The moment when Eren would walk into his current life would be like a cascade of rocks falling on him he would have to dig his way out of. As always, he was hardly prepared, but he resigned himself to his bittersweet fate because there was little time left.

  Perhaps it was his punishment for allowing Eren to die. For leaving him too soon. When he let his mind linger on it, it always took him there. When he pondered the unanswerable question of ‘why?'

  He was wrapped in guilt, wearing it like the cloak he wore during that one life. The Catalyst had been his fault, set into motion by his miscalculations. He didn’t protect Eren as he was intended to and Eren had lost his life in the most devastating of ways.

  It chipped away at him, he barely slept since the dream the week before, his shame at failing Eren nagging him since reliving it so keenly. He spent most of the last six nights in his studio studying their history, scratching pictures of Eren onto parchment, too anxious to see him again to rest.

  It had been the plateau, but this was something else, today he felt the electricity of a storm before the rain falls, positive and negative about to join in an explosion.

  The tension didn’t leave as Levi prepared for his day, the urge to perfect himself manifest in the extra time he took doing so. He could reunite with Eren any moment, and the human-natured call to look one’s best wasn’t something he was above. His tastes hadn’t changed over the course of his lives, stubborn and habitual as Levi was. Still simple dark slacks and a white button-down shirt, he would look more familiar to Eren this way as well. Even if Eren didn’t consciously recognize it, Levi felt there would be comfort provided to him in it.

  It was like dressing for a wedding and a funeral. Levi and Eren’s meeting would leave him with both hope and a new beginning, but the feeling of loss as well. The loss of everything they shared before because Eren wouldn’t know he loved Levi and he wouldn’t know the memories and their lives before.

  Before he left the apartment, Levi took the key to Eren’s basement. Some sentimental object he’d swiped lifetimes ago from a museum along with a few other articles of theirs. Of course, people had thought their death made those things something to be displayed along with inaccurate stories about their lives and their loss of them. Something to be owned by the collective. But he wouldn’t allow them to be possessed by the public, those things were theirs.

  He remembered when Eren had given him the key, placing it around his neck during the afterglow of their lovemaking while Levi was halfway to sleep, drifting and sated. Eren sneaking it over his head, knowing Levi would resist taking it. It happened one night close to a year before they died. Levi had tried to refuse it when he woke, but Eren was confident it would protect Levi because he was sure it had protected him. He had relented after trying to stick it back in Eren’s closed hands, accepting it because it made Eren feel better.

  It was gripped in his fist now, his fingertips pressing it hard against his palm as his thumb ran over the smooth metal of its end. Then he slipped it into his shirt pocket, taking one long look at his apartment before he shut the door. It was empty, devoid of life. The dwelling of a hollow being, tumbling along alone, and he longed for it to change.

  As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t pursue Eren, he had made his mind up about it lifetimes ago. He’d tried it before, and it never succeeded. It was like trying to chase the tides. Eren would always disappear from him right before he could touch him, and he surmised Eren had to find him. Perhaps it was something they had decided when they were in the place he and Eren dwelled in when they weren’t on the earthly plane. Maybe it was a God who made it that way, or possibly fate. He wasn’t clear on it, but he knew his efforts were pointless and only drove them further apart.

  Resisting his urge to search, Levi headed down into his bookshop below the flat and opened it like he did every day. He took a deep sniff of the comforting scent of old paper and well-worn leather upon his arrival, then turned on lights which didn’t require oil. Something Levi was enjoying about this age, recalling the inconvenience of lighting lamps as he did. Last, he unfastened the lock and turned the sign to tell passersby he was open.

  He put on his phonograph, brewed tea, set out cookies, and prepared to distract himself with the chatter of customers as he seated himself on the stool behind the counter.

  He always opened early in the day, usually at nine. He was an early riser, often needing a distraction, and he found many of the regular bookworms stopped by to get their books first thing in the morning. Today was no different. He was busy with the usual Tuesday morning group, having come to see what Levi procured in his customary late Monday shipment.

  Though what was different today was his level of patience, and how quickly he became inattentive. Every customer during the day had been given a minuscule portion of his consideration while his desperate eyes scanned the windows. He couldn’t tear them away, and he debated internally if he should close up the shop for the day and go to the market. The idea was dismissed even as he found himself overcome with the inability to keep himself still, the uncontrollable compulsion to pace overtaking him. It would be _searching_. His motivations weren’t solely for that purpose even if he intended to buy food, and his search would only increase the length of time until he saw Eren again.

  Being in his shop now was what he was supposed to be doing. It was what he did every day other than Sundays during these hours, and inner instinct told him not to deviate from his routine regardless of how much he wanted to close up the store and leave.

  There were important reasons to stay, just as there were critical reasons for his profession. He chose it because being a bookseller allowed him to parse through extraordinary amounts of information in hopes he found something helpful about reincarnation. He stumbled upon books over the years which described he and Eren in previous lives. Lives like The Catalyst when one or both of them had done something unusual enough to commit their actions or accomplishments to tomes which recounted events from its given time period.

  He could trade in books both new and old, and it meant more chances to find things he could add to his notes, allowing him to fill in the blanks. Enlightening him about Eren’s deaths when they had occurred after his, as was usually the case. Hoping eventually, if he wrote down enough, researched enough, compiled enough, an answer would come, and he could end the cycle.

  There had to be somewhere they were meant to go, a task they were supposed to fulfill. Levi had read about the theory a soul needed to learn or mature enough to stop being thrust back down into the realm of the material. That once their souls did all they were supposed to do that they would exist permanently in a wondrous place, perfect and beautiful. Levi was sure it was where Eren had been when he met him as he left his body at the end of The Catalyst. He remembered seeing Eren reach out to him, extending his hand, helping him abandon his body and his existence in that life. It had been bright and warm, and Levi didn’t remember it well, but he knew after he abandoned his body, he and Eren had become one. They were two parts of a whole reunited.

  His mind was preoccupied with the possibilities, what it all meant, and it continued through the morning and into the afternoon. Hours ticking by with bored looks shot at people who stopped in to browse and short answers to inquiries until approaching afternoon, business slowed.

  After what had been a welcome break from patrons, Levi’s lunch and his despairing were once more interrupted, his attention divided, and he gritted his teeth as his patience began to wear thinner.

  A short, portly man he knew by the name of, Barney who visited the shop every other day was attempting to discuss a piece of fiction with Levi. Something Levi found barely engaging on any other day, but today his attention was firmly elsewhere. Barney's words ran through one ear and out the other as he explained his love for the heroine in a book he Levi recommended to him the week prior. Recommended only because he knew Barney would like the piece of trash that it was.

  It was hard to resist the urge to be rude to and not tell Barney to shut up. Even harder when Levi gazed out the windows of his shop for what must have been the hundredth time that day, his eyes lingering on every young man with brown hair who passed by.

  He was about to give up looking outside for the duration of the exchange and accept his fate of being stuck in the conversation when his heart began to race. If it moved any harder, he would die as it flew from his chest. At least it was how Levi felt as he dismissed the little man, sliding past him with careful steps and giving him a slight push to his shoulder with the back of his hand, moving to the window after a younger man across the corner caught his gaze.

  The man didn’t take the walkways. Instead, we went corner to corner, traveling on the diagonal through the street straight toward Levi’s bookshop from the bakery kiddie-corner with a small bag in his hand. Unsafely bouncing across the street in front of horse driven carts, nearly being hit by one of those offensive powered carriages Levi detested. Almost as if he was suicidal. A suicidal blockhead.

  Moments went by for what felt like the space of years, and Levi’s heels slowly rose, his heart hammering in his chest as he came to settle on his toes, hands pressing flat against the window which stood as a barrier between him and the young man.  

  Levi’s face was pressed nearly to the surface, breath fogging the glass as he watched the man’s approach. A man who couldn’t be older than his early twenties with a disheveled mess of chin-length brown hair, curling against the back of his neck and jaw. Levi noticed his resolute smile, one he knew so well, and the familiar way he walked. With a carefree determination, only Eren possessed.

  He only needed to see the eyes. He already knew, felt it in his heart, way down low in his stomach, too, but required confirmation. His lids pulled close, squinting as the man hopped the curb and landed on the sidewalk in front of the bookshop. His eyes met Levi’s for a moment, holding his gaze, his smile widening as he looked through the window, and it was all Eren. Big bright green eyes, the same ones Levi had known through all the ages were staring back at him.

  It hit him in the chest, blasting all the air away, clouded the window again when he exhaled against it. He wanted to scream for Eren, run out and grab him, enfold him in his arms. His eyes burned because Eren had continued on, stopped looking at him, and went on his way. At the same time, Levi felt like he could soar to the stars and take them all in hands.

  His feet shifted, turning the direction Eren had gone as he watched through the window and Eren turned the corner. He couldn’t follow regardless of his need to, and he halted himself from striding to the door, throwing himself out it and after Eren.

  He could hear Barney still prattling away, but his ears were filled with cotton, and Levi wanted to lash out to shut him up. His voice resounded through the store as Levi’s mind was bombarded with thoughts of Eren and what to do next. It was too much, his head was going to explode.

  The most pinnacle moment of this lonely life so far and a customer was droning on about the imagery in some useless book written by a hack.

  Levi went stiff again, more rigid than he had in the morning when he realized Eren was so close, but instead of being driven by nervousness, he was now driven by anger. He wouldn’t follow Eren, but he had to get away from this man too.

  He dragged in a deep breath, exhaled slowly then pivoted in Barney’s direction. “ I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to get to restocking.”

  Barney’s eyes widened only a hair, tufts of thick eyebrow moving up into his hair before a polite smile spread across his face. “My apologies, Levi. I didn’t mean to keep you.”

  “Thank you,” Levi said, and it was all he could muster without sounding like an asshole. Barney was bothering him, but he was a customer, a good customer, and Levi needed those if he were to stay in business. He needed them more now if Eren were in his life. He was always so much younger than Levi, most often a young man when he would find him and usually barely able to care for himself financially.

  “I’ll see you on Thursday,” Barney called as he turned to leave the shop.

  Levi only nodded and caught himself on the edge of a bookcase as the door shut. It amazed him how he managed to stay standing through the exchange as he propped himself up and attempted to steady his breath. His hands were trembling, and his skin felt two sizes too small. Like he was going to come out of it.

  It took some time, but he ambled over to the stool behind the counter and retrieved his sketch pad. Drawing was the only thing which would distract him, he thought as he took up a piece of charcoal and began hastily rendering Eren as he had seen him moments before. If he thought too hard about it, he would go out and look for him, causing a never-ending circle of chasing and never catching.

  His only course of action was to wait, go through the motions of his regular life and be patient. It was assured he would bump into Eren when the time was right, once Eren felt the persistent draw to him.

  Based on what he had told Levi in past lives, Eren always felt a magnetic pull to him and to whatever the place was where they would meet. Although Eren never understood it, he would describe it to Levi usually during whispered conversations between the two of them. Always after their relationship was established, confessions breathed against Levi’s ear, many times under blankets together while sharing kisses and gentle strokes to each others’ skin.

  How much Levi yearned for it. He missed Eren’s presence, but Levi longed for the physical connection as well. His warmth, seeing his sometimes hard outer shell stripped away when he held him in his arms.  

  Those experiences were where his thoughts stayed for the remainder of the day, cherishing memories of their happier and more intimate times. Scenes of the past lessening the weight of his worries about connecting with his other half again.

  Levi sketched several pictures of Eren over the hours. The Eren he saw earlier in the day, and he smiled when he thought again of his hair. It didn’t matter how many lifetimes they lived, Levi was sure Eren would never learn to tame it. He put the final touches on his most realistic of renderings. It took him the rest of the afternoon, had left him in a shirt dirtied with charcoal, and smears on his face, but the effort and mess had been worth it. He only wished he had a medium on-hand he could use to color in the eyes which stared back at him now from the page.

  They were eyes he never would be able to replicate entirely on paper, he knew. Levi would never be able to capture those, and in a way, he didn’t want to. He knew how they looked and if he had been able to do so, it meant he would share them with anyone else who saw his drawings. He rathered keep those eyes to himself; the ones in the expressions intended only for him.

  He tossed the sketchpad aside on the counter with a sigh, long and exhausted, rubbed his forehead, and picked up his cup of chilling tea. The day was coming to an end, the closing was less than an hour away, and the urge to turn the sign early was present. Nearly no one came in at this time, most people heading home to prepare dinner or relax for the night after a long day of work.

  Levi took a sip of his tea and debated, clenching his jaw at its strength. He thought again about getting up to lock the door early then glanced at his drawing before he heard the jingle of the bell and looked up as the door swung open.

  “I hope it’s not after hours. I promise I won’t be long,” the green-eyed man said.

  Meanwhile, Levi’s teacup shattered on the floor as his heart catapulted into his throat.

 


	3. Chapter 3

  The clatter of shattered china and the splash of tea was louder than it should have been. To Levi, it sounded more like an entire service falling to the floor, rather than the single fragile cup it was. Though the assault on his ears lasted only half a second before it was replaced with a hum. Steady and muted as though his head was wrapped in cloth. Most of his senses were faltering, but his sight sharpened as he focused on Eren moving nearer.

  In the moments it took for Eren to cross the short distance, Levi saw time stretch out, the layers between the memories of their lives pulled thin and taut along with the muscles in his back. Seconds felt closer to a century, Eren seeming like he was moving through water while Levi examined every detail of him. His hair was shaggy and slightly longer than it was last they had been together, his height precisely as Levi recalled, and Eren’s dress was the same blend of sloppy and refined as it always was.

  A neatly tailored vest and coat paired with wrinkled pants, one of the tails of his shirt hanging out, his watch dangling from his pocket, seeming to swing faster than he was moving. It made Levi smile if only a bit as Eren dashed around the counter and crouched down to inspect the mess Levi had just made.

  When he looked up at Levi, his expression was thoughtful, as it had always been when he believed he made a mistake. Worry was etched on his features, big green shining eyes Levi knew all too well blazed, blinking up at him, searching and apprehensive, giving the impression he was steeling himself in preparation to be scolded.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Eren apologized, the quavering in his voice betraying his embarrassment.

  For how fearful and regretful Eren looked, and for how much Levi wanted to wipe the look from Eren’s face, his voice refused to cooperate. He couldn’t do any of the things he desired to. Couldn’t kneel down and take Eren’s face between his hands, he couldn’t toss out the usual quip and call him a brat, and he couldn’t reach out and pull Eren against him and keep him there like his soul had desired for so many long, long lonesome years.

  Levi's mouth was empty, save for words he could not speak, heart cracking so thoroughly he was sure it was turning to dust.   

  “Do you have a rag? Please let me at least clean it up,” Eren implored.

  Levi pursed his lips and just stared, his hands beginning to shake. After being parted for so long, Eren was before him, and Levi couldn’t move. He remembered what it felt like to be in shock, how his body had refused to obey his commands, mouth moving as nothing but gibberish poured from it.

  He had lost all of his control, and it was no different now. Levi would spend the rest of his life like this, a frozen statue gaping stupidly before his beloved. Silent, and unmoving except for an occasional blink until he was dead and withered and once again gone. Soon Levi’s state of catatonia would convince Eren he was either too angry or insane to be trifled with and he would flee, most likely scurrying away out of a fear of the mad bookseller whose teacup he had unintentionally caused the destruction of.

  Levi wouldn’t have the ability to intervene. There was nothing which could force his obstinate lips to produce sound, his defiant limbs to work. He would shake and tremble until he shook to pieces and broke.

  He closed his eyes, took in a long slow breath, willing himself to speak, working his rebellious tongue in his mouth until he felt warmth spark against his index finger. His reaction was instantaneous, Levi’s eyes snapping back open as he looked down.  

  “Was it valuable?” Eren asked as he frowned. His hand moved closer, fingers brushing gently against Levi’s skin a second time.

  _Not nearly as valuable as you_.

  When Levi found his voice again, it was foreign. Too quiet, a hair too thick, coarse and lacking its usual confidence. “It was just a cheap teacup.”

  His eyes darted between Eren and the shards of porcelain on the floor, then down to his shoes which were splattered with Earl Grey, before they met with sadly pleading eyes.

  Eren looked as if he was close to coming apart, crestfallen. Levi knew the mannerisms, the body language, the way he bit his lip while he wore an expression of dejection on his face. If Levi left him like this Eren would probably be begging his forgiveness momentarily. That or he would be running away never to return.

  He swore he could see recognition there as well, but he knew Eren didn’t sense it. It was as it always was. The connection was present, yet incomplete and subconscious. The unseverable thread which ran between them was invisible to Eren, there was only an unexplainable familiarity for the younger of the two.

  _Do you remember me?_

“At least let me pay you for it,” Eren offered.

  _Please remember me._

“Are you all right?” Eren asked sounding confused as he waved his hand.

  The unease which laced his tone was the same as it had been through all time, the fretful mien which accompanied it, ancient. _Levi’s_ Eren. His entire being dripped with concern, more for Levi than Levi had ever had for himself. It reminded him of those nights when he was The Captain, and Eren would comfort him over his imminent loss, abandoning his own worries to slip his fingertips over Levi’s quivering eyelids and press kisses to every inch of his face.

  Eren had lived each day with a death sentence, and Levi was the one quietly overcome with sorrow so sharp and deep he was unsure how he managed to function. It had never been fair to Eren, and he was repeating the same mistake now. He ran his hands up over his face and through his hair. It felt strange, he felt stiff and small, as if he was looking out through someone else’s eyes. The loss of Eren’s warmth where he had made contact was nearly crippling, and it took all of his strength not to offer Eren his hand and pull him up to standing.

  “My apologies,” Levi stammered and pinched his brow. “It’s been a long day.”

  “I still feel bad it broke,” Eren said and stood up.

  Levi looked up, and he and Eren’s eyes met. He remembered what it was like to bury his face in the top of his strong chest, the way Eren’s skin smelled when he breathed him in. How Eren’s arms would wrap him up, protect him from every horror the world threw at them. In the past, Levi found acceptance and redemption there, found a place where he felt pure, where the cruelty of their existence couldn’t touch him. 

  He would have it again in time, what was agonizing was traveling the long road to that point. It required him to be on guard, not allowing anything to slip. It was easy to forget Eren didn’t remember at times, something Levi was reminded of when Eren’s name nearly left his lips.

  “I can clean it up,” Levi started and closed his eyes, heart pounding frantically in his chest. “I’m Levi. What’s your name?”

  Levi didn’t extend his hand right then, he didn’t trust himself to stop there, the urge to pull Eren close to him was so strong a call he was unsure he could control himself. Especially with the way Eren’s eyes were widening, some spark of recognition perhaps brewing beneath the surface.

  “Levi?”

  Levi observed him carefully as he tested the name on his lips. Eren’s mouth opening and closing after he said it, eyebrows descending as he concentrated on the syllables and repeated it a second then a third time.

  “Levi.”

  “Levi.”

  “Yes, and you are?” Levi gently prodded. He already knew what Eren was going to say, knowing it before he laid eyes on him in this lifetime. Still, he wouldn’t risk speaking the name and have Eren run from him out of fear.

  Eren shook his head, looking as if he was trying to shake away a fog, then rubbed his eyes and stuck his hand out to Levi and introduced himself. “I’m Eren.”

  There was a resentful voice in Levi’s mind which hated this. Bitter and mournful and full of scorn he had to endure ‘introducing’ himself to his other half. Though it was strong, and there was fear as well, it didn’t overshadow the exhilaration he felt at the prospect of being able to touch Eren again. To have him standing before him, tall and beautiful and just as bright and alive as he recalled him being years before.

  Still, the unfairness of it all was something Levi could not often forget. How many more times would he be forced to meet Eren for ‘the first time,’ how many more times would he live with the knowledge they would be parted only to suffer waiting for Eren all over again? How many more times would Levi age, broken, watching Eren from a bed knowing he was near abandoning Eren as he spiraled toward his death?

  It took all of Levi’s strength not to fall against him when he slowly reached his hand forward, and warmth enfolded him. Eren’s body sagged for a second along with Levi’s, and he could only imagine Eren was feeling something similar to what he was. A bolt of comforting electricity so intense it was like it was exploding out the top of his head.

  They both looked down at where they were joined then back up to each other, neither loosening their hold. Levi wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile or crumble apart when he examined the look on Eren’s face. It was so painfully fond, the way he looked when he came running to find Levi after a mission and they would finally see each other again.

  Eren always ran, ran at Levi until he was a scant few feet away only to stop and just take Levi in, alive and unbroken before him while Levi did the same. Eren would hold onto the moment as long as he could bear it before he crossed the last steps slowly and crushed Levi to his chest. It was like that in every life they lived which had been fraught with danger and the constant threat of death, though The Catalyst was the one which was most vivid in Levi’s mind as they stood with their hands tangled again.

  Now Eren was before Levi, looking as he always had and Levi wanted to hold him and tell him how much he had longed for him. Not quite sure how long they were clasping each others’ hands, it became clear it was necessary he pulled away.

  “I can clean this up, Eren,” Levi said as he stretched his fingers and pried them from Eren’s grip.

  Eren immediately shook out his hand, looked down at it, and mumbled, “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know…”

  “I assume you came in here for books?” Levi questioned. “Have a look around, I’ll take care of this.”

  “Are you sure?” Eren asked, discomfort evident from his body language.

  “It is a bookshop, I’m sure you didn’t come here only to clean up after a clumsy shopkeeper.” It was a lie. Levi was anything but clumsy, the grace and agility he possessed in past lives present in this one as well, but painful as it was, he needed distance. He also required Eren know it wasn’t his fault.

  Though he didn’t remember, Eren was clearly rattled, more than the average person would be in the situation. Eren was gnawing at his lip once more, his eyes darting about the bookshop when Levi remembered his sketch pad sitting toward the other end of the counter, and his heart nearly dropped to the pit of his stomach.

  He hastily shepherded Eren toward the bookcases, fast enough he yelped. Levi had drawn from a pool of strength he hadn’t known he possessed, placing his hand without forethought on the small of Eren’s back, and pointing him in the direction of the fiction section, willing them forward. He couldn’t allow Eren to see the sketch.

  “I assume you were interested in fiction?” Levi asked, voice barely above a whisper.

  “Uh, yeah,” Eren said. “How did you know?”

  “A lucky guess?”

  The loss of Eren’s proximity was enough to leave Levi breathless when he returned to the destruction. He stepped over the puddle on the floor and dealt with the sketchbook first, closing it, and stuffing it into the safe behind the desk then securing it. Once he was finished, he tried to find composure, watched Eren from the corner of his eye and went to the back to fetch some rags and bucket.

  Levi supposed as he began tidying the mess it was a blessing rather than a curse that he dropped the teacup. Picking up the broken pieces gave him something to busy himself with as Eren spent time marveling at the books on the shelves. And ‘marveling’ was the only suitable word to describe it. His eyes were wide, almost comically so, a broad smile drawn across his face as he tugged volumes from the shelves, staring at covers and sifting through the pages.

  “Levi,” Eren called after several minutes, “have you read most of these?”

  Levi’s heart constricted excruciatingly in his chest at hearing his name again. It was so familiar, already tinged with the hidden affection he knew Eren felt for him.

  “Not all of them, but a good many,” Levi barely choked out, returning to sopping up ruined tea, catching a piece of his own reflection in its remnants strewn about the old floorboards. How exhausted he looked, the dark circles under his eyes which followed him through every life, deeper than usual. He wondered if it had been the day as a whole or Eren’s appearance which caused the weariness inside to manifest so plainly on his face.

  Like always, he worried if it was something which would put Eren off. No matter how many lives they had lived, it never ceased to surprise Levi that Eren desired no one but him. Regardless of how old Levi was, how tired and wrinkled he became, Eren had never been bothered. When his hair greyed, and Eren’s was still the deepest shade of chestnut, features barely touched by time, he always loved Levi the same.

  “Did you read this?” Eren asked, disrupting Levi from his thoughts.

  Levi could see he was holding up a book, but it was too far away for him to make it out through the dim light of the room. It was dark already, the small lamps in the shop not illuminating him clearly.

  “What is it?” Levi asked.

  “It’s called, ‘The Beast Within,’” Eren explained.

  Of course, Eren would pick that book. A ‘classic’ written over one hundred years before, based none too loosely on events of The Titan Wars. It focused on a character who was a ‘monster,’ so to speak. The creatures in the book weren’t the Titans, but they were close enough, and the protagonist for all intents and purposes, was Eren.

  Levi couldn’t help thinking there was more to it. Some cosmic reasoning which could explain why Eren was interested in this story.

  “It’s not a bad book, plenty of action,” Levi revealed. “Perhaps it’s a little sensational.”

  “It sounds interesting, and I do like action,” Eren said. “Still, it’s hard to choose.”

  Eren’s difficulty narrowing down his choices aside, it didn’t take long for him to acquire an armful of books. He walked over to the check out area as Levi tossed the last rag in the bucket, stood up, and brushed off his hands.

  Eren set the collection down, looking at the fronts and backs again, making two piles, then reinspected the covers before he was adding up the price on his fingertips.

  Typical Eren. Levi knew he didn’t have enough money for them all. He never did in any life, at least not at this age, which Levi guessed had to be somewhere near twenty. Tempted as Levi was to tell Eren to just take them, he couldn’t. It wouldn’t make any sense given Eren’s current perception. Sadly, Levi was a stranger to him, only a random shopkeeper selling books. Why would he give up a sale to gift Eren with books for free?

  Eren looked up at Levi. It was expectant, close to virginal, something far too untainted for all Eren had seen and experienced through the ages.

  Levi averted his eyes and looked out the window at the snow now quietly falling. Eren was chewing his lip again as he tried to make a decision, pulling the bottom one into his mouth with his upper teeth how Levi had seen so many times before. The way he always had before their first kiss in each life, the way he had while they were intimate for the first time. Eren nervous and sweetly apprehensive, yet so hungry and desperate Levi had been sure he was about to crawl out of his skin.

  In their last incarnation, Levi thought Eren was going to chew it off his mouth as they sat by the sea for hours, Eren preparing to reveal he was in love with him. Levi wondered if it would be like that in this life. Sometimes Eren had blurted it out, occasionally he went to the ends of the earth to make it unique, but most often he looked cautious and preoccupied before whispering it against Levi’s flesh. It sometimes sounded almost like an afterthought, though it was so far from it, and Levi recalled with a smile the time Eren had breathed the confession into his hair when he thought he was asleep.

  “I think I can only afford three. What do you suggest?” Eren asked. He looked like an abandoned puppy, and Levi knew it wasn’t because he was trying to be manipulative, he was merely disheartened.

  Levi turned the piles toward him and scanned the bindings. “Three, huh?”

  “Yeah, three,” Eren confirmed.

  Levi pulled three books out, starting with the one Eren had asked him about. “I would get this series,” he said then put them in a neat stack and pushed them toward Eren. “It’s cheaper if you buy them all together.”

  Eren was beaming when he looked back at Levi. If only he knew how difficult it was for Levi to resist leaning forward to brush the locks away from his face.

  “How much?” He sounded nervous.

  “Ten dollars,” Levi said.

  If Eren didn’t have that, Levi wasn’t sure what he would do. He was waiting for a look of disappointment or the look of glee he was so familiar with.

  Eren dug in his coat pocket while Levi watched. He attempted to train his face in the bored expression he knew he so often wore, but it was impossible to pull it off completely. Perhaps when they got past this awkward stage and Eren thought he knew Levi, or when Levi eventually revealed the truth.

  A pile of wadded up bills fell from Eren’s fist to the counter, and he rifled through them with the tip a finger before he found a ten. Then smoothed it out carefully before he handed it to Levi. “It was kind of you to give me a discount considering it was my fault you broke your teacup.”

  Levi’s hand was touching Eren’s as they exchanged the cash, Eren not letting the bill free and Levi’s hand unmoving. It didn’t last long, Eren seeming as if he was snapping out of a trance, then relinquishing his money.

  “I should have been paying better attention,” Levi said.

  He placed Eren’s books in a bag and handed them to him, careful not to make contact this time. Eren was going to leave, go on his way, away from Levi for how long, he didn’t know. Touching Eren would be too dangerous to his psyche, he was near his breaking point already, and he knew sleep would elude him that night.

  Worse was Eren was slow to depart, lingering quietly in the store, just watching Levi before his eyes would shift to a shelf or one of the displays on the tables. His feet moved slowly, a few steps at a time before he stopped and turned entirely to look at Levi again.

  “I should get going,” Eren eventually said, though his pace did not speed up.  

  “I have to close up,” Levi whispered. It pained Levi to say it, not only in his heart, but it physically hurt. Made him feel as though he was being stabbed, a blade twisting beneath his rib cage, tearing his insides apart.  

  Despite the cramping, Levi followed slowly behind Eren, relieved he couldn’t see the look on his face. He could scarcely remain standing by then, and he had to use the door frame for support as he opened the door for Eren.

  When Eren was halfway past the threshold, one foot in Levi’s store and one on the snow-covered walk, he turned and looked at him again. “Thank you. For not getting angry about your china, and for the recommendations.”

  “You’re welcome,” was all Levi could manage.

  Eren ventured out into the cold, and the dark, and Levi closed the door and locked it. His face once again so close to the glass it fogged, but he couldn’t look away. Eren only made it six steps before he stopped and turned to wave.

  Levi raised his hand slowly, the last of his reserve cracking as he leaned his tensing body against the door.

  _I’ll be waiting._


	4. Chapter 4

  Levi had seen war and death and pestilence, adults tearing at children to steal away rotting scraps of food. He lived more than once through a veritable hellscape, but none of it currently compared to existing apart from Eren.

  He supposed it was a somewhat selfish and self-centered thought, though it did nothing to quell the sentiment. He became desensitized to those scenes after seeing them for thousands of years, but being separated from Eren was something he never had nor would ever grow accustomed to. He prided himself as a controlled person, but when it came to Eren, the thought of being without him could often make Levi sick to his stomach and suffer discomfort. His gut would turn in knots, and then the headaches and burning in his chest would follow. Being away from him physically hurt Levi.

  He knew the stiffness and pain in his muscles now were caused by it. He had suffered it before, his agony reaching its height after he would find Eren, but before he knew Levi belonged to him.

  He was on the floor of his studio, having fallen asleep there sometime during the night. Sheets of paper were strewn about him, covered in sketches of Eren. Eren as he saw him four days earlier, the Eren of this life.

  After he closed up the shop that night, Levi had stumbled up to his flat, deciding to partake in the whiskey he stashed away high in a cupboard a few years before. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. In this life, like in most of his others, Levi had an incredibly high tolerance for alcohol, and becoming inebriated and drowning his sorrows in liquor was a goal he was never able to accomplish. When he finally accepted his failure, he had tossed the half-empty bottle at the wall and left the mess behind. It was nearing three in the morning, and Levi had been dispirited and angry with himself, half a step away from feeling genuinely ashamed.

  Even if he could accomplish getting himself drunk, it was the last thing he needed to do when Eren could reappear at any time, and after a moment of clarity, he instead wandered into his studio and began sculpting.

  The result was Eren rendered in clay, crouching down, arm extended, eyes peering upward precisely as he had been when he rushed to help Levi with the broken teacup. Sketches followed the next three nights. Some in coal, some in ink or pencil, and the products of those evenings were now scattered about the floor, Levi laying in the middle, head pressed against his right arm as he groaned at the mess he had made.

  He toyed with the key to Eren’s basement, watching it from the corners of his eyes as he turned it over and over in his hand, then ran the tip of his index finger over its smooth length. It felt weightier than usual, warm after having been tucked against his palm for several hours.

  Though touching it was comforting, it was a useless piece of metal, something he wouldn’t need much longer. There was no door to unlock anymore, Levi had destroyed it when he was The Captain, and Eren’s childhood home from that life had been rebuilt over a century ago. It wasn’t why Levi kept it though. It was a reminder, and Levi didn’t feel like Eren was so far away when he had it. Soon he would be able to stash it back in the foot locker buried beneath the tree, commit it to the ground where it would wait until his next life.

  He gritted his teeth. The unending cycle was tiresome, made Levi weary down to his very bones, and he wondered how long it would continue. It was times like these when the prospect of having Eren again was overshadowed by the knowledge it wouldn’t last. It occurred mostly when Levi was sleep deprived, as he was now, or when the pains came and mercilessly wracked his body.

  He had gotten only six to seven hours of rest since Eren had come to his shop, and now he was once again waking up miserable on his floor with a migraine.

  He was close to running on empty now. Over the last few days, he pushed himself despite his exhaustion to open each day, fearing Eren would return and he would miss an opportunity to see him. It didn’t matter Levi knew fate tied them together and Eren could never wholly slip through his fingers, there was still a needling anxiety Eren would come to the store only to find it closed, and Levi would never see him again in this life.

  The wait was agonizing though, and much to his consternation, Eren hadn’t yet resurfaced. It made the hours feel as though they were stretching once more into years, and as each day went by, his inner strength faltered. His choice was to continue laying on the floor brooding and cursing the universe or to linger in his store while on the precipice of the breakdown he knew was drawing closer.

  Neither choice was attractive, though one would most likely pay off sooner than the other, and that option had nothing to do with remaining where he currently was.

  He closed his eyes again and drew in a breath, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles as he stretched then pushed himself up to sitting. He looked down at himself, he was covered in charcoal, his formerly lily-white shirt smudged with the evidence of his mania, hands looking as if he had rubbed them in soot. Those filthy hands rose to skim over his face as he attempted to wipe away the fatigue, uncaring of the stains they left in their wake.

  He had been dirty before, covered in blood and grime, soaked in Titan spit and he groaned at the thought as he swiveled his head and looked around the room. It was chaos, he lost his composure. He knew everyone did once in a while, but Levi hadn’t found himself in this state for at least a few lifetimes. Still, it bothered him he had been so careless. Drinking, not getting enough sleep, passing out on his floor after scribbling pictures of Eren onto parchment while he pitied himself. None of this was consistent with Levi, nor was it behavior he should be engaging in when soon he would see Eren again.

  Levi could feel him nearby, the thread wasn’t pulled as taut as it had been in the past, and it felt as though he was drawing nearer, though Levi couldn’t pinpoint the time or place when they’d meet once more. It was something he hated. The fates, the universe, whatever it was could keep them connected and make them suffer during lifetime after lifetime, but it couldn’t give him a vision of the future or any indication of Eren’s current location.

  It was bullshit, Levi thought as he scoffed and sent a stick of graphite skidding across the floor.

  He leaned forward, burying charcoal stained hands into his hair, and tugged hard. Hissing at the sharp pain, he took a deep breath and allowed himself to wallow in his self-loathing for another half a minute before he pushed himself up to standing, left the studio and went straight to his bathroom.

  He intended to get into the bath to begin the process of cleaning himself and get his head back on track, but as he passed the mirror, his reflection gave him pause. The streaks of black dust across his face weren’t a surprise, but the darkness of the circles under his eyes were enough to startle him, and they weren’t caused by his art supplies. They had always been there, not only in this life, in the others as well, but they were more pronounced now. The mark of a man drowning or being sucked down into oblivion, and he hadn’t fully realized the extent of what he was doing to himself until that moment.

  If Eren, Eren who knew him, who was aware he loved him could be there to see him, he would either punch him in the face or hold him so tight he would squeeze the air from his lungs. Either way, he would be beside himself seeing him so disheveled.

  Levi tensed his jaw as he leaned forward over the sink, he needed to clean up, go buy cookies for the shop as he did every day, and though he would be late, the stored required opening. It was necessary he kick himself in his own ass and persevere. He was also reminded when his stomach growled indicating he needed to eat something, that he hadn’t in days. He would be no use to Eren if he destroyed himself before they could begin again.

  He managed to quell the hunger pangs long enough to shower and clean away the remnants of the art binge from his skin, finished up putting himself together, then once he was tidy and dressed, he wandered back to his studio to straighten up.

  The task wasn’t easy.

  Eren’s eyes looked at him from everywhere, some sad, some shining brightly with joy, but all of them, no matter the expression, held affection and undying love and devotion. Levi saw it when Eren had been in the bookshop, the same as it always had been, the problem was unlocking what was behind his eyes. He crouched down, getting a closer look at one of the pictures which lay at his feet, and traced his finger over the rough vellum, down a cheek and the edge of Eren’s jaw. It was only ink on a page, but Levi could remember what Eren’s skin felt like under his fingers as he skimmed along the line. The warmth and smoothness, the change in the texture when Eren had been forced to grow that ridiculous beard. How the muscles would shift under his palm when Eren smiled at him. Always the same in every incarnation and the memory hadn’t faded during all his years away from him.

  He picked it up and gently set the paper down on his drafting table, cautious as he began to stack the drawings. There was a knot of guilt which sat in his chest when Levi thought of how careless he had been to leave the pictures on the floor. They could have been destroyed. It wouldn’t have been difficult for the pots of ink he fell asleep beside to have spilled on them if he knocked them over in his sleep. It wasn’t a spectacle Levi intended to repeat, and he was grateful to have learned his lesson before he ruined anything.

  Once he finished, Levi turned one last time before he locked the door, held his eyes shut for a moment, then looked reverently at all he had created. Soon he would have the real thing, but for the time being, he had his memories, his art, and a room which had become a shrine to Eren and all Levi loved.

  In the meantime, there were other things to attend to like the shop and continuing to pull himself out of his mire. He found the sun welcoming once he made it out onto the street. It wasn’t warm enough outside to do much in the way of melting the layer of snow which covered the town, but it lifted his mood regardless and provided needed warmth to his cheeks.

  He went to the bakery across the way first and purchased what he did every day. A box of two dozen biscuits. They were oblong in shape and made with an ample amount of sugar and butter, they also were Eren’s favorite during The Catalyst. Something the brat had rarely been able to have given their situation during that lifetime, though there were a few rare opportunities when Levi was able to procure some for him.

  Levi remembered the bittersweet day when he gifted Eren with them the first time. It was the day when Historia had come to Trost to give the Corps medals. Levi and Hanji had let Eren out of jail earlier- at Levi's urging- and Eren was distraught and agitated. Eren hadn’t been himself for much of the day, he was quiet, shorter than usual, and spent much of time looking off into the distance preoccupied.

  At the time, Levi thought it was a stupid silly gesture, but he slipped out in the evening after they were dismissed to buy Eren a treat. Sometimes the smallest things could pull Eren from his fog and make him smile. When he returned to their quarters, Levi found him sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out the window. He gave no indications he knew Levi was there.

  After Levi entered and investigated further, he found Eren's eyes full of unshed tears. He hadn’t even reacted when Levi reached out and put his hand on his own.

  “I didn’t think you’d come back,” Eren had said.

  It was only then Levi thought once more about what had happened on the rooftop and their argument. Armin and Erwin both on the brink of death, the fight, and the choice Levi made. Levi didn’t expect Eren to be so upset considering in the end, Armin was the one who lived, but what transpired weighed upon Eren.

  “Are you angry with me?” Levi then asked.

  “I don’t know,” Eren said. He broke down then, his expression a mask of pained confusion.

  It took Levi a good hour to calm Eren down, finally having to practically wrestle him into his arms. It was only then Eren lost his restraint. He yelled and screamed at Levi, tried to get away, yet any time Levi loosened his grip so Eren could leave, he hadn’t taken the chance to do so. Eren was so young at that time, so volatile and emotional and their relationship was still so new. Levi was forced to remind himself Eren’s experiences were those of an adult, but he hadn’t learned how to control himself like one yet.

  It occurred to Levi at the time he may have been damaging Eren, but the thought of being without him, of letting him go, felt as if his heart was being torn out. There was always an inextricable pull from the moment he laid eyes on Eren. Though at the time, in that life, Levi couldn’t explain it beyond knowing to be apart from Eren would merely be ‘wrong.’

  It wasn’t something new, something Levi hadn’t thought about before. There was a seed of guilt given Eren’s age from the beginning, and Levi attempted to take a step back, but Eren hadn’t allowed it. Instead, he had gotten in Levi’s face and shot down every reason Levi gave as to why they shouldn’t be together. None of what Eren said didn’t make sense, and he was mature and concise, his retorts well thought out. In the end, Levi conceded. 

  Confirmation he made the proper choice came when Levi had tried to pull himself from Eren to retrieve the cookies. Eren was calmer, had ceased his crying, and instead, having buried his face in the crook of Levi’s neck finally relaxed. Though when Levi attempted to get up, Eren clung to him and a plea of, “Don’t ever leave me” left his lips.

  It took a couple minutes more of consolation from Levi before Eren allowed him to retrieve the box he brought to their room. When Levi returned to the bed, Eren was looking somewhat back to himself, sitting cross-legged and watching him curiously while he glanced at the parcel in Levi’s hands.

  It was a tiny thing, but those sweets erased the last bit of melancholy Eren held onto. Levi wasn’t sure if it was the cookies themselves, or Levi having thought of him, but it didn’t matter at the time. All which mattered was Eren settled, Eren smiled and stuffed his face like he didn’t have a care in the world, because in the small portion of time, in their room, only the two of them, the horrors of the world couldn’t touch them.

  They made love for the first time that night. Levi had been apprehensive about letting it go so far, and he stopped it from happening previously on numerous occasions, but Eren had a different air about him. Levi saw the man behind his young eyes, a soul infinitely older than the body which held it. He didn’t understand it then while Eren took him for the first time in that life, but with the knowledge he now possessed, he did.

  The recollection caused a small smile to tug at Levi’s lips, one that for the first time in a long time wasn’t tainted with sadness or pain. It battled the cold which surrounded him as he stopped in a shop to buy himself something to eat, then walked home through the icy streets. Followed him all the way back to the bookstore, his heart pounding  in his chest when he saw a curious note was stuck to the door.

  His hand reached forward shakily toward the scrap of paper as he read the familiar script.

  _‘This is going to sound strange, but I had a dream about your teacup._

_I wanted to ask you about it, but your store is closed._

_I’ll come back another time._

_Please don’t think I’m weird,_

_Eren’_


	5. Chapter 5

  Levi spent the next five days wondering when he would see Eren again, the note he had left on the door barely moving from his sight. It was torturous, though Levi didn’t allow himself to slip back to where he was the previous week.

  He looked down where the paper sat on the counter, Eren’s surprisingly neat handwriting looking the same as it always had. It was comforting to glance at, yet he was more focused on Eren’s dream and his forwardness in wanting to discuss it with him than the missive itself. Unsurprising as it was Eren would be brash enough to seek him out and leave a note, Levi hadn’t expected this, at least not this soon.

  His jaw tightened when he thought again of his miscalculation. Levi had simmered in his regret for far too long and was nearing his breaking point. He had been vigilant this entire lifetime. Keeping his pictures locked away, keeping his eyes out for Eren but never actively seeking him. He did everything right, and now one misstep had cost him the opportunity to spend a bit of time with Eren. He wanted to close his head in the closet door, or go back in time and shake himself.

  Taking a slow breath, he planted his hands on the counter and began counting back from one hundred. His muscles were bunching and on the edge of spasming, but they backed off minutely as he reached eighty. Still, he wanted to tear his own hair out for having been gone when Eren came looking for him. If only he took better care of himself and opened the shop on time.

  If he had only kept himself in line, he wouldn’t have missed him. It was a chance Levi could never get back. Eren could, of course, return to speak with him, but it was one less time in this life he would be able to see him. The day was lost, as lost as Levi felt then, adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

  When it was nearing three in the afternoon, Levi looked up towards the front windows in time to see Eren crossing the street. There were many times in past years, especially in the last nine days Levi had thought he saw Eren, but this time he was sure. There was no mistaking the jog, or the way he was once again worrying his lip between his teeth.

  Levi clasped his hands together in an attempt to stop them from shaking, feeling like a wind was battering him as Eren opened the door and stepped inside.

  He wasn’t shy, or tentative, and he didn’t linger near the tables or shelves, only made his way right up to the counter before he was catching himself on the edge, leaning over, and huffing in a deep breath.

  “Sorry about that note,” Eren breathed, looking embarrassed. “I know it sounded weird, but…”

  “It’s okay, Eren,” Levi cut him off when he paused. “Catch your breath.”

  ‘Eren being Eren,’ was all Levi could think when Eren’s eyes met his. Full at first as if Levi surprised him, his eyebrows jumping up under his bangs before his expression relaxed as the relief came.

  “I would have come back sooner, but I had to leave town to get the rest of my things, I just moved here.” His face contorted into something which looked pained after he said it, and he only stared at Levi like he was something fascinating and confusing at the same time.

  If this had been any other person, Levi would likely be throwing on the snark and taken aback by such a strange note and declaration, but this was his Eren. Still, Levi didn’t want to give anything away. He would listen to what he said and take stock of the situation afterward. It was also intriguing to know Eren had a dream already. That had never happened in the past.

  There had been times in other lives when Eren eventually dreamed snippets of their former lives together. Usually, dark scenes he didn’t quite understand and impressions which he would ask Levi about in the morning while he clung to him. It always occurred years into their relationship, though, and never before Eren knew about and accepted what Levi had told him regarding their former selves.

  Now Eren was standing before him looking inquisitive yet frightened, leaving Levi to hide his solicitude and react in a manner which would make sense if Eren were a complete stranger.

  “If you were that worried about the teacup, don’t be. It’s not like it had my wedding pattern on it,” Levi assured.

  “It’s not that,” Eren immediately countered, his voice rising. “I am sorry about it, but I’ve had this dream every night since I came in here.” He lowered his head before his voice dropped to a whisper, “It’s like this place put a spell on me.”

  “I assure you, I didn’t cast a spell on you,” Levi said, his lips curving. He supposed it was a place where Eren’s mind would go, and Levi doubted he was completely serious in the first place.

  “No, it’s not that. I don’t think you’re a witch or something…” Eren paused then sat down in one of the chairs not far from Levi and glanced at him. “Is it alright if I sit down?”

  “I’m not stopping you,” Levi said. “I was about to brew some tea, you want some?”

  “Yeah, please,” Eren answered and scrubbed his hands over his face.

  Levi observed Eren casually as he could while he walked to the stove in the back. The brat looked run down, not as exhausted as Levi looked days before, but he guessed by his appearance he hadn’t been sleeping well.

  The thought caused his chest to ache while he poured boiling water from the kettle into a small steeping pot. Eren’s suffering angered him, he may not have the ability to recall it, but Eren had endured anguish in many of their lives. Sometimes more than Levi. The Catalyst was the first which entered his mind, and Levi wondered when whatever cosmic force that caused all of their strife would cease toying with them.

  He could fight against monsters, he could fight against people and things he could touch and rend with a blade. There were times in the past when he battled against Eren’s fears as best he could, but Levi couldn’t defeat a God or whoever it was that saw to their suffering.

  When he returned, he placed the tea service on the table and took the seat across from Eren, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. Eren was leaning forward, fingertips pressed to his chin as he looked down at his shoes. His eyes didn’t meet Levi’s when he placed the steaming cup before him, and Levi’s gut felt as if someone was reaching inside and twisting.

  “You must think there’s something wrong with me,” Eren said after a deep breath, eyes darting everywhere, yet avoiding Levi.

  “No,” Levi said and crossed his legs. He looked casual, though inside he was anything else, his muscles straining as if they were trying to tear through his skin with their tensing.

  Eren took to the proffered saucer, the steam obscuring his face slightly for a moment before he brought the cup to his lips and searched Levi’s face. “You’re going to think I’m insane, but…but did you break another teacup before?”

  Levi frowned as he cracked inside. A scene from near two centuries ago played across the back of his eyes. A great burst of porcelain, tea, everything moving in slow motion before Hanji was leaving and Eren was dropping to the floor to pick up the pieces while Levi sat stunned. A drop of blood on Eren’s finger and then the puff of steam drawing Levi's attention before he was joining Eren on the floorboards below.

  There was a tear in his throat no tea would ever aid in relieving. Levi could see himself leaning slowly forward, his hand extended, index finger curling as his mouth began to open. When he realized what he was doing, he pulled himself back, pressing himself against his chair, his body once more leashed by the tight reigns he refused to relinquish as he looked at Eren and steeled himself to listen. “Not recently that I remember, why?”

  Eren’s hands trembled as he set the saucer down and looked at Levi again. He wet his lips, then stood up and started pacing as he chewed once more on his bottom lip. It was a habit Eren had in the past, but Levi noted it had become more pronounced in this life.

  “I- I keep having this dream every night about you breaking a teacup. But the thing is, it’s not here in this shop, and it’s different. You’re different. You look the same, but your clothes are odd. You’re wearing belts all over and this stupid thing on your collar like a…a napkin? And you look…” Eren paused as he looked up, eyes glassy and somber. “You look like someone just shattered your whole world. And I can feel the pieces of the cup hit my legs and the tea splattering on my pants, and I feel like I’m watching it through someone else’s eyes, but this person feels like his heart is getting ripped out... _I_ feel like _my_ heart is being ripped out, and I feel guilty because it’s my fault you’re so sad.”

  Levi winced at the confession, his heart thrashing so wildly it felt like a desperate caged bird was throwing itself against his ribs.

  Eren didn’t appear to notice before he continued, the speed of his pacing now frantic. “I know it sounds ridiculous and I would have ignored it if it hadn’t happened every single night. But it’s all I dream about, and I can hardly sleep. I’m sorry, you don’t even know me…but I’m just fucked up, and I don’t know what else to do.”

  Levi didn’t know what to say, though he knew what Eren was remembering. Levi remembered it too. It was the night during The Catalyst when it had been confirmed Eren did indeed only have eight years remaining in his natural life. The Titan Serum had shortened his lifespan, and he already spent five of the thirteen years he had left the night his father injected him.

  He wanted to tell Eren about it, prod him to remember more, but in the past, his overzealousness in doing so had never ended in anything more than frustration, often Eren crying and Levi wanting to rip the Universe to shreds. Despite his shock and despair, Levi sipped his tea, attempted to train his expression in mild interest while keeping an air of impassivity as he carefully chose his words.

  “Have you been doing a lot of reading, Eren?” Levi calmly asked.

  Eren turned to face him, perplexed. “Yeah, I already finished those books I bought. Why?”

  Levi uncrossed his legs, though he didn’t attempt to stand, unsure if they would currently support him. “Your imagination probably got the better of you, and you saw me not long before you started reading the books. It’s possible the stress of your recent move contributed to it too.”

  “Maybe.” Eren sat back down in the chair looking uncomfortable. He picked up his teacup, gulped down the rest of his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “But I swear I’ve had this dream before, a long time ago. When I was a kid. It feels like a memory.”

  It felt like darkness enveloped Levi as he reluctantly prepared to say the most painful words he could imagine speaking. “But we’ve never met before, Eren.”

  “I know, I know,“ Eren waved him off and planted his fists on the tops of his thighs. “I can’t explain it, but something told me to come to Trost, and ever since I’ve gotten here I’ve had this feeling, and sometimes I see things just for a moment, and they’re things I don’t understand.”

  Levi nodded quietly, though inside he was screaming. Eren had never experienced this, and all Levi wanted to do was kneel before him and place his head in his lap, wrap his arms around his waist and feel Eren’s fingers card through his hair. He was so tired, so lonesome, and incomplete. They completed each other, and he couldn't reveal it. Worse was Eren was struggling, grappling with memories of things he didn’t understand and Levi was unable to do anything to assist him.

  He nearly growled to himself, and closed his eyes, searching for composure, praying he didn’t make a costly mistake. “Why did you move, Eren?” he asked. It was partly out of curiosity, partly because he hoped it would give him a bit more insight into the Eren of this life and enable him to find a way to calm him.

  “There wasn’t anything left for me there,” Eren said as he dipped his head.

  Eren had the familiar appearance which looked as if he was about to cry. His countenance melancholy and vexed, the expression which indicated Eren was teetering on edge between tears or yelling. Sometimes it was both, and sometimes Levi had been able to soothe away his volatility enough that neither came. Although it was always after they were together, Levi couldn’t recall ever having done so when this was so new to Eren.

  “You’re making a face like I steeped your tea way too long, Brat.” The addition of the pet-name wasn’t entirely an accident, but Levi questioned himself instantly after it slipped from his lips.

  Eren’s head slowly rose, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Levi. The look was piercing, cutting through Levi like a knife. “Why did you call me that?”


	6. Chapter 6

  Levi’s fingertips tensed against the rim of his teacup.

  Eren was studying him, perhaps gauging him, though not saying a word. Eren had already learned some patience, and that thought, much to Levi’s consternation, turned his veins to ice with fear. He attempted to draw in a deep breath through his nose, his chest feeling as if it was fighting against expansion. Like there was something tight bound about him. His brow and shoulders tingled with alarm, leaving him dangerously close to hyperventilating.

  He was like a tornado sealed in a mason jar, cap tightly screwed in place, though inside he was exploding, on the verge of shattering the fragile façade.

  Eren left no clue as to whether he was offended, curious, or if the moniker had sparked something. He only continued to stare at Levi, eyes penetrating, stormy, awash in some emotion Levi couldn’t pinpoint.

  Levi hadn’t planned on using the endearment, but it had come to the tip of his tongue of its own accord, and as soon as he tasted the first sound of the name on his lips he did nothing to stop it.

  It took a monumental effort, but Levi took another sip of his tea and cleared his throat, hoping Eren didn’t notice the minute trembling of his hand. If he gripped the cup any harder, it would probably break. He was panicking, his heart thumping so fast in his chest it was sure to crash through his ribs and fly straight across the store.

  “I didn’t mean to insult you,” Levi managed, praying Eren was veering towards offense. He was well versed in dealing with a pissed off Eren.

  Eren frowned. “No you didn’t insult me…” he trailed off and narrowed his eyes at Levi once more. “Are you okay, you look fucking constipated?”

  Levi didn’t say anything, only gently lifted a brow. Eren was tossing back his own quips and didn’t even realize it. Not many things terrified Levi but saying the wrong thing now was a petrifying prospect. He was already treading in dangerous water. Worse yet, Levi was in unknown territory right then, Eren had never sought him out in this fashion. It left him both hopeful and frightened. Perhaps something was different this time, but how to approach it was the question.

  “I don’t hear anything during the dream,” Eren murmured, cutting through the quiet which enveloped them, then ran his fingers through his hair in mild exasperation. “I can see you or someone who looks like you talking, but I can’t hear what’s being said…but I know…I know that man called the other person a brat. The person whose eyes I watch it through.”

  To anyone else, Eren would appear mad, but he was onto something, and he was tenacious. Levi wept inside for him, he knew Eren was feeling and sensing things about them. He was aware he was steadfast in his belief it was more than only a dream, and Levi knew it was probably killing him. He could comfort him in a roundabout way, but not as he desired to. He felt as if he was allowing Eren to twist in the wind, allowing his desolation to run free when he could do something to stop it.

  “How do you know?” Levi asked, regaining some of his bearings. He was tempted to tell Eren how absurd he sounded to throw him off this dangerous path, yet it wasn’t absurd, and Levi couldn’t bring himself to utter such a lie.

  “I just know,” Eren whispered earnestly. “I see your… I mean _his_ mouth move and I know that’s what he’s saying, but…” Eren trailed off again.

  It was as it always had been, Levi could feel Eren’s emotions. Eren would quiet, his eyes would become glassy, and then there was a torrent trapped behind them. A dam of Eren’s own creation as he sought to control himself.

  “Go on,” Levi softly urged. He could learn more, sound interested, yet noncommittal as he walked the edge of this knife.

  Eren rubbed his eyes and looked away from him, staring at some books set on a nearby table before he flicked his eyes back and focused on Levi.

  Levi observed Eren’s hands open and close, fingertips digging into his knees as he dropped his head in defeat.

  When Eren began to speak, it was a raspy whisper, though his voice quickly rose in pitch and volume. “It feels the same to me when you said it as it felt to the other guy. The guy who made you cry!” Eren frantically explained and shook his head before he corrected, “not _you_ , that man who looks like you with the belts and the weird collar.”

  _I wish you would remember when we were happy_.

  Levi’s nostrils flared as he nipped his bottom lip. He was sure the skin was going to peel off his face and reveal what was swirling below it. He rarely cried in any life he could recall, so much so, that those around him assumed he never did.

  Though what startled Levi wasn’t that Eren mentioned him crying, it was that he _knew_ about it, that he remembered it the way Levi could now.

  When Hanji had confirmed Eren’s lifespan during The Catalyst, yes, Levi had dropped his teacup. He did so in front of both Eren and Hanji, but after that, he had pulled himself together because he needed to for Eren. It was only later in the evening when Eren was gone from their shared quarters that Levi, believing he was in solitude had broken down.

  He’d sobbed like he hadn’t since he was a child.

  Like he had years before, awakening only to discover his mother had passed. How Levi cried when he’d gently pushed on her arm to wake her and she hadn’t. He had prodded with small fingers, expecting her embrace, only feeling cool skin and he knew. Yet he persisted shaking her gently, again and again, attempting to rouse her, calling “Mama,” knowing he would never hear her voice again, the cascade finally coming when he accepted she was beyond his grasp.

  Levi had seen death for as long as he could recall, he had been aware she was gone, and all he could see then lifetimes ago when he discovered Eren’s fate as their painful reality poured down on him, was Eren’s face in place of his mother’s.

  They would fight and fight hoping to triumph, but in the end, if they claimed victory, it would be hollow. Eren would be torn from Levi regardless. He felt selfish for it still, but no amount of time with Eren would ever be enough.

  Maybe it was why he was forced to suffer so.

  Eren was still looking at Levi, waiting for some kind of reply. He was patient, though Levi could tell he was weighing his response. He wasn’t dealing with a fifteen-year-old Eren, but an older Eren. One who had grown to be calculating, crafty. An Eren who used forethought. Of course, Levi loved and cherished that Eren just as much as any others, but he was more challenging to deal with and had often left Levi thinking on his toes. 

  “Do you suppose you have ESP?” Levi asked. He wasn’t going to mention reincarnation. If Eren’s mind went there, it did, but Levi was not going to plant the seed.

  Eren stood up again, hands rising above his head and slapping against the outside of his thighs in exasperation. “I don’t know. I only know I felt like I had to come here to Trost and ever since I did I see things and I can’t get more than a couple of hours of sleep.”

  “You believe in those things?” Levi asked.

  “Never did before, but now, I don’t know,” Eren practically whimpered, and Levi’s heart broke for another time in all his long and numerous lives.

  “Do you have any books about this shit?” Eren asked

  “There is a small, ‘occult’ section,” Levi revealed, nodding his head toward the corner.

  It would be a lie if Levi didn’t admit that section was the only reason he owned the bookstore in the first place. That and the history section.

  Eren swiped a cookie from the plate on the counter with far more determination than taking a cookie required then marched over to where Levi had only just indicated.

  He was obscured behind a shelf, and Levi couldn’t see him, but he could hear him quite clearly when he called, “is it all right if I just take a look at these, maybe do some research?”

  Eren’s voice was muffled, and Levi was well aware given the sound he had shoved almost the entire biscuit in his mouth without having to see it.

  “Look as long as you’d like.”

  “Thanks,” Eren called with his mouth full.

  The wave of relief which ran through Levi didn’t fully come for another ten minutes. He spent the time behind the counter attempting not to crack. He had gotten Eren off the subject for the moment, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to pursue the conversation again. Levi had fucked up, and that fuck up could have spiraled out of control had Eren not believed him.

  It was only when Eren returned to grab more biscuits, quickly departing before going back to the occult section that Levi finally felt much of the tension drain from his body. He had been sure as he watched Eren silently stride toward him he would be met with another onslaught of questions, but blessedly, it appeared Eren was only hungry for a snack. He left with a, ‘thank you’ and a handful of food, before settling back among the shelves once again.

  Levi blew out a breath and inhaled, immediately testing his lung capacity, grateful when he felt his chest regularly expanding once more. He could hear the quiet carding of pages and the muted knocking of pulp against wood as Eren removed and replaced books on the shelf, but the fact Eren was currently engrossed in his research calmed him.

  By the time Eren had finished gathering up what he was interested in, it was nearing closing time, and Levi’s plate of complimentary treats was empty save for crumbs. Levi smiled at that, his Eren had always enjoyed sweets, and though until recently they had been eaten by other random customers, Levi had ever bought them with Eren in mind.

  There was a resounding thump to the tea table when Eren set down the pile of tomes he had assembled then sat tiredly down in one of the chairs beside it. He appeared dismayed when he cocked his head toward Levi, looked at him, and sighed. “This was everything I could find so far that looked like it could be helpful, but it’s so much.”

  Levi rounded the corner of the counter and sat across from Eren to have a look at what he had collected. A couple books on dreams, one on ghosts, a book on ESP, prophecy, several which were a mishmash of various oddities, and one on the subject of reincarnation.

  He was intimately familiar with the last one. He read it so much he could likely rewrite it from memory word for word. What Eren didn’t know was that particular book had followed Levi through several lives. It was one of the critical pieces of information he always buried in the trunk at the base of the tree once he found Eren, then retrieved in his next life when the memories came. That book was not for sale.

  “That’s a lot of reading, Eren,” Levi said.

  “It’s too much, and I can probably only afford one,” Eren lamented. “Those books are _really_ expensive.”

  “Most are rare and quite old,” Levi explained.

  “A lot of them don’t even have a price tag in them,” Eren exhaled and buried his face in his hands.

  Once again, Levi only wanted to give the books to Eren.

  Eren wasn’t hinting, trying to get the books cheaper, he was genuinely disconcerted and upset, he was desperately searching for answers, but Levi couldn’t allow him to have them for free. Given what had transpired earlier, it would only cause Eren to become more suspicious than he already seemed to be, and Levi knew Eren wasn’t ready to hear the truth no matter how much he would protest he was.

  “These books are costly, some aren’t actually for sale,” Levi clarified before he paused. “What if I allowed you borrow them?”

  Eren’s head shot up, eyes widening in surprise. “Y-you’d let me borrow them?”

  Levi nodded. “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?” Eren asked.

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” Levi deadpanned with a smirk.

  Eren began chewing his lip once more, looking around the room as if the myriad of books stacked in piles could tell him whether the offer was attractive or not. He looked almost as if he presumed it was some sort of trick. Perhaps he really did think Levi had cast a spell on him.

  “I could do something for you in return,” Eren said staunchly. “You must need help. I never see anyone here but you.”

  Levi laughed. “The shop runs quite efficiently with only me.”

  “Someone to help with dusting. I could scrub the floors,” Eren offered. “Make your tea for you?”

  So much his Eren Levi couldn’t help but smile.

  “As you can see, the shop is clean,” Levi said with a twitch of his hand.

  “Please,” Eren pleaded, “I can’t accept your offer unless you let me do something in return. Please.”

  If there was one thing Levi hated, it was shoveling the steps and walk in front of the store. It was the chore he dreaded the most. Dusting off hundreds of books, sweeping and moping, none of it ever bothered Levi, but moving the snow was something he loathed.

  “Are you good with a shovel?” Levi asked.

  Eren’s eyes flicked towards the windows. “Do you want me to shovel?”

  “Yes.”

  Eren scratched the back of his neck and smiled. “We didn’t get snow where I lived near the shore, but I can figure it out.”

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” Levi asked. “Shit falls down out of the sky whenever it feels like it, and you’ll have to get your ass here to move it.”

  “Yeah, I can do it,” Eren assured.

  “Your job won’t interfere?”

  “I just moved here, I don’t have a job yet,” Eren explained.

  “Then it’s agreed.”

  Levi wasn’t prepared for it when Eren stuck his arm out to seal the deal with a handshake, though it was less rattling to his psyche than when Eren had revealed his memory of hearing him in utter despair in their past life.

  He reached his hand out slowly, fingers tensing as they moved closer to Eren’s. Levi was attempting to appear calm, though inside he was anything but. When his fingers skimmed against Eren’s palm, it was like electricity again, Levi’s entire body going weak, knowing he was only getting a sample of what he desired, aware it would be torn from him once more.

  He looked at Eren, saw his eyes widen and his mouth drop open only a hair, eyes closing in something which seemed like relief before his head bowed slightly and he whined so quietly Levi almost didn’t catch it.

  Levi’s heart clenched. It felt as though Eren was calling to him in desperation, the part of him buried down deep which Levi recognized was calling out for his assistance. He pulled his hand away as slowly and as nonchalantly as he could. If he kept contact, he was going to tell Eren everything.

  They sat quietly with their eyes closed, hands hovering close, yet not touching, before the spell broke.

  Eren stood up quickly, chewing on the tip of his thumb, trembling slightly from what Levi could tell.

  “I can really take these?” Eren asked.

  “I said you could,” Levi said.

  “All right then.”

  Eren gathered up the books, his gaze lingering on Levi before he turned and walked toward the door. Levi followed him, preparing to lock up once he was gone.

  “Thank you again,” Eren whispered as he paused by the entrance and turned to Levi.

  Levi kept his urge to ask Eren to stay to himself, his heart disintegrating as he looked up at him.

_I don’t want you to go._

  “I hope you have better dreams tonight, Eren.”


	7. Chapter 7

  Darkness had already descended by the time Eren arrived half an hour earlier. He came into the shop and left some books he finished then insisted the nearly bare walk needed clearing before going back out. Levi suspected it was an excuse for visiting though he didn’t argue. Eren’s presence was welcome, and if he needed to pretend the exterior of the building required tending to justify stopping in, Levi had no intention of begrudging him.

  It gave Levi a chance to observe Eren from afar and sketch him as he battled the ice and dusting of snow. He smiled seeing the expression on his face. Determined as it always had been as he scraped and chipped while he struggled not to slip. Since the first day he began, Eren had been thorough, cleaning the sidewalk far better than Levi ever did. Sometimes clearing it down to the pavement.

   Over the past two weeks, Levi saw Eren almost every day. Sometimes he came to remove the snow, other times he spent his evenings in the bookshop chatting with Levi, asking him questions, and sharing theories about his dreams and visions. At this point, Eren was convinced it was some sort of ESP. Levi would drink his tea and nod, making queries when he felt it appropriate but not too risky.

  They settled into something which was becoming routine, and it only made Levi more eager for Eren to finish his task. Watching Eren was something he adored, though by now he had enough of sketching and craved the quiet conversations they tended to have in the evenings when Eren stayed.

  He turned his head as he checked on Eren’s progress, watching through the windows as he rounded the corner of the building and disappeared. Eren now out of his view, Levi returned to his sketch, peering down at it with a frown. It was missing something. He held the charcoal lightly between his thumb and fingers, hand hovering over the paper as he examined it. It didn’t take him long to see the flaw, realizing he needed to enhance the contours of Eren’s mouth. Unlike the beauty of Eren’s eyes, he never felt as though he could adequately capture the softness of his lips no matter how many times he tried.

  His strokes against the parchment as he added the final details were tentative, concentration clear on his features. Not gentle and sure. Not the way he would touch Eren when he was finally given a chance. When he could do that again, he would slip his fingers over every inch of his skin, trace all the familiar dips and curves of his body as he worshipped and reacquainted himself with him. Levi would hold Eren in his arms like he were something precious and irreplaceable as he always had.

  Clenching his eyes shut tight, he stilled the images in his mind as he took a breath. This wasn’t the time for torturing himself. Instead, he held the sketchpad from a distance and examined his work. No portrait could ever do Eren’s countenance justice, but it was all he had for the time being when Eren wasn’t there. His only outlet was his artwork.

   Despite the recognition, a faint smile was on Levi’s face as he craned his neck and noted Eren must be finished. He closed his sketchbook and stowed it on a shelf under the counter, rising to fetch him a cup of tea.

  It had quickly become a habit to have the warm drink waiting. Eren was working hard, sometimes arriving at the first light of dawn, sometimes late into the night to shovel snow, and though it was Eren’s idea, Levi couldn’t help feeling pity he had been out in the cold. He finished pouring the tea right before Eren entered the shop, a steaming cup of rooibos ready in his hands.

  Eren’s cheeks and nose were tinged pink from the crisp winter air. There had been a nearly constant blanket of snow aside from a few breaks, though the temperature had stayed well below freezing.

  Levi noted Eren’s right hand was held behind his back as he stomped his boots on the rug and looked up. There was mirth in his eyes as he chewed his lip and smiled before closing the door.

  “Cut a few of these to bring inside,” Eren said as he held out his hand, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his fist. “It’s dark in here, and they still look pretty. Even in winter.”

  They were hydrangeas from the back garden. Covered in snow, Levi having forgotten about them. Though the purples and bright whites had browned in the fall, the blossoms had endured and morphed into something just as beautiful, yet changed. Their muted hues were now duller, but lovely all the same, the shade reminding him of the color of caramel or Earl Grey which had been steeped just a bit too long.

  Levi’s heart was swelling inside, brows pinching as he attempted to keep his face neutral when their hands brushed as he took the bunch by their stems. The touch lingered for a moment, and Levi used it as an excuse to flirt, if only a little.

  “Bringing me gifts now?”

  “I stole your flowers and gave them back to you.” Eren looked down at his shoes and bit his lip before he continued, “but yeah.”

  “Thanks-” Levi said, omitting “brat” at the last moment when Eren’s hand settled back at his side.

  There was no need to provide them with water, but Levi set Eren’s teacup down on the table before going to the back to retrieve a vase. He situated them on the counter when he returned and fetched the plate of cookies then took his seat, watching as Eren removed his gloves and ran his hands over his cheeks.

  “I know it’s stupid, but they were just covered in snow.” Eren shrugged as he removed his jacket and sat down. “I hope you don’t care.”

  “This shithole could use them,” Levi said, noticing a flush rising on Eren’s face. “It does feel like a cave in here sometimes.”

  They fell into silence, Levi allowing Eren to sip his tea and warm up. He was unusually quiet tonight, and Levi surmised it was probably from giving him the flowers. A gesture which harkened back to Eren in the past. It was something Levi was accustomed to. Eren bringing him small gifts, something they both had done for each other over their shared lifetimes. Often Eren was shy when he did so, even when they had been together for years, and in this life, they had only known one another for less than a month.

  Not only was Eren quiet, but Levi noticed he was becoming restless as well. He could see the trembling in his hand as he leaned forward and set his empty cup back on the table, legs jostling up and down as his eyes met Levi’s and he snatched a cookie off the plate then put the entire thing in his mouth. He was like a vibrating ball of static, his body quivering as if there was something too massive inside to be contained within his skin.

  “Is it always so cold here?” Eren asked, breaking the silence.

  Levi smirked. “Regretting your decision?”

  “Which one?”

  A frown lightly creased Levi’s brow. He hadn't thought Eren could be having second thoughts about anything other than volunteering to shovel the walks. “Any of them,” Levi said, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

  “I wish I had bought a warmer coat.”

  How Eren shivered at the declaration only punctuated the point, and Levi wished he had something which would possibly fit his much taller frame. Instead, he offered something else. “I have a better tea for warming up.”

  Levi excused himself before returning to the back of the store to prepare a different pot. Though he cherished any time spent with Eren, it was a welcome respite. Eren was still quiet, and something was apparently bothering him, though he had made no attempt to tell Levi what it was. Levi frowned and shook his head, perhaps he shouldn’t have been flirtatious, he thought, dismissing the idea almost immediately. It was probably something to do with the dream, though he was uncertain if he should ask. He gazed into the serving pot with a sigh as he poured hot water over the infusion, catching himself right before it overflowed. Weeks of patience had worn down his reserve. It wouldn’t be much longer until his restraint would begin to slip away.

  Once Levi was finished, he walked back to the front, carrying the cinnamon tea only to find Eren shaking out his hands as he paced.

  He jumped with a start when Levi cleared his throat.

  “That was fast,” Eren squeaked.

  “Then let’s hope it doesn’t taste like shit,” Levi said as he set the service down.

  “As long is it isn’t gunpowder.”

  “Never.”

  Eren kept a careful eye on Levi, only sitting back down when he had seated himself, filled their cups, and raised a brow at him. Eren looked distressed, though Levi couldn’t blame him. He appeared as if he didn’t know what to do with himself or as if he had too much energy, uncomfortable and ill at ease. How lonely and desperate he must have been, Levi thought sadly. Coming to the bookshop of a man he believed he had met only a few weeks before, spending most of his evenings having refreshments with Levi and discussing that agonizing dream.

  Levi looked at Eren, meeting his eyes when he forced out a sharp breath. His hands were clasped tightly together, knuckles white with force, and Levi watched as his mouth opened soundlessly, closed, and then opened once more.

  “I think the two men in my dream love each other,” Eren blurted out. It passed his lips as if something inside of him coughed it up against his will, not allowing him to keep the information to himself anymore.

  Levi could feel his jaw slacken, but he caught himself before his mouth fell open. “Why do you think that?”

  Eren looked off to the right, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them with a sigh. “I had another dream. A different one.”

  There was a lurching in Levi’s chest, images flooding his mind in such quick succession they all bled together. Thousands of kisses, whispered ‘I love you’s,’ touches, glances, mornings by fireplaces, Eren beneath him, Eren inside of him. It wasn’t possible he remembered as clearly as Levi did. If Eren had, he would have said as much by now. Eren wouldn’t leave Levi with his pain, not after how long they had been parted. He would know of Levi’s suffering because he would have suffered the same. He would know the solitary existence, the feeling of emptiness which came to Levi each night when he laid on his bed only to look beside him and see a cold, empty space.

  Voice faltering, Levi blinked at Eren while he tried to work the words up from where they were stuck in his throat. It was a game of tug o’ war, push and pull. His curiosity propelling them up while his fear pressed them back down.

  The result was a trepidatious quaver in Levi’s voice as he asked, “What happened?”

  The answer which came from Eren’s mouth wasn’t instantaneous, and waiting for his reply caused the room to spin around Levi in slow motion. He noted the persistent blush on Eren’s face darkening as he leaned his chin against his knee and squeezed his arms tighter around his legs.

  “It’s hard to say.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of what they’re doing.”

  Levi cursed his stupid eyes for widening.

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “I want to.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  Eren wet his lips and grasped the fabric of his pant legs in his hands. It took three false starts and some more lip chewing, but when he finally spoke his voice was gravelly and low. “The man who looks like you was sitting at a desk in what looks like a bedroom, and I…the other man, I mean…” Eren took a deep breath before he reached his hand forward and laid it on the table between them. “He sits down on the other side and puts his hand on the desk. The dark-haired man looks up at him from whatever he’s writing, and he puts his hand on top of his.”

  Levi’s throat constricted, though he spoke nonetheless. “Do they say anything?”

  “It’s like the other dream,” Eren said, disheartened. “I can’t hear anything, but I can tell by the way the dark-haired man is looking at the other man that there’s more there. It’s…intimate. The way his eyes warm when he smiles, and his lips turn up a little at the corners like it’s a secret smile only for him. Then he brushes his thumb over the top of his hand, and I can feel it like it’s mine. And my chest gets warm and fluttery. It feels familiar. The other man has it memorized like it’s touched him everywhere. Like he’s kissed it. I know what his palm would feel like if I put it against my lips.”

  Levi’s back was pressed straight against his chair by the time Eren finished, fingertips digging into the arms as his jaw clenched. He hadn’t noticed during Eren’s account how his body had stiffened. It was a memory Levi couldn’t individually pick out. There were many times when Eren would come and sit in the seat before his desk, and many times when Levi had held his hand on its surface as he worked. But what had Levi feeling as if he was on the verge of both tears and an anxiety attack wasn’t the memory itself, it was how Eren had described it. The minute details only a beloved would recall or place value upon.

  There was no reason to throw Eren off the path he had wandered onto, yet Levi couldn’t bring himself to tell him the truth of things. He didn’t know what to say, and it was clear Eren was becoming antsy and uncomfortable with the silence. Levi could see it in the way he shifted and bounced in the chair, how Eren couldn’t keep his eyes on him for more than half a moment before they darted away and he was pulling in on himself.

  Though Levi couldn’t blame him. Eren didn’t know what Levi knew, and he disclosed details of a romantic dream which involved a man who according to Eren looked exactly like the person sitting before him. Most people would be put off or at least, suspicious of Eren’s motivations. They would have to be gullible or a believer not to confront him.

  Levi wasn’t sure what part he wanted to play, but playing either was a sickening prospect. He didn’t want to deceive Eren, he desired to tell him they were the people in his dream. But as much as he wanted it, there was an uncomfortable jump in his gut each time he contemplated revealing the truth.

  He took a deep breath as quietly as he could and slowly pushed it out his nose, rubbing his hands over his face to pull the mask back into place.

  The interested believer was what he finally settled on. “Does anything else happen?” Levi asked as he leaned forward.

  The way Eren’s face lit up was worth the pain of wearing the façade.

  “I watch him write letters through the other man’s eyes. He sometimes pauses to talk, but he never let's go. Sometimes the man I see through looks out the window or at the bed,” Eren explained. “I know it’s their bed. It’s peaceful. They’re quiet most of the time, but there's comfort between them even when they’re not talking. They don’t need to talk, the others’ presence is enough for both of them.” Eren dropped his feet to the floor, hunching forward and burying his face in his hands. “I don’t understand what it all means.”

   The urge to mirror Eren’s slumped position was overwhelming, but Levi remained as he was, pulled tight as a bowstring in his chair instead. They couldn’t both fall apart. If it all came back and Eren remembered everything, that was the time when Levi could allow himself to wilt, to fall into Eren’s arms and crumble. For now, he needed to remain the pillar. To guide Eren without nudging him too hard, allowing him to recall it all in his own time if he did.

   “I’m crazy. You must think I need to be locked up,” Eren said, dejected. As if he took Levi’s silence as judgment or disapproval.

   A crack hitched in Levi’s throat as he saw Eren back in the dungeon again, shackled as he sat on the bed. “No.”

  “No?”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” Levi said.

  “Do you think I’m lying?”

  “No.”

  _I wish I didn’t have to lie to you._

  Eren appeared lost when Levi looked at him again. He noticed his eyes caught the light more than they should, a telltale sign he was near crying. Eren had always cried about everything. He had always said everything, worn his emotions like a favorite old jacket. So it wasn’t surprising he divulged the details of the dream to Levi, nor he seemed to be nearing one of his crying fits.

  He looked fearful, and the sympathy Levi felt chased away the tension in his limbs to a degree. He only wished he could do something which would ease some of Eren’s distress as well.

  In the past, Eren had found music calming, and Levi possessed a phonograph just as he had during The Catalyst. There was no guarantee it would prove to be the same in this incarnation, but it was worth a try. He stood and walked over to the shop door, locked it, and turned the sign. It didn’t go unnoticed how Eren’s eyes followed him there and back, continuing to watch Levi as he walked to the counter and began cranking the machine.

  “What are you doing?” Eren said and looked at his pocket watch. “There’s over an hour until you close.”

  “I doubt any more customers will bother with this shitty weather.”

  “Should I go?”

  “Stay. That is if you don’t mind having more tea and cookies with an ornery bookseller.”

  Levi dropped the needle and looked over his shoulder as the notes began to play, just in time to see the lopsided grin on Eren’s face.


	8. Chapter 8

  Levi scowled as he tucked his scarf back up over his mouth, the damnable thing refusing to stay in place. It was damp with condensation from his breath and something he didn’t want to think about. Leaving his face cold whenever it snuck down, then cringing in disgust each time he had to push it back up. His plan to spend a few minutes clearing the snow had turned into an ordeal. He almost slipped three times, wrenched his back, his nose was running, and his fingers were numb. It was already getting too dark to see, and his clumsy strokes to the cobblestones were inefficient. How Eren managed to do this so well especially into the late hours in the unforgiving cold was a mystery.

  He loathed this, he always had. This was miserable, the biting temperatures far below what any human should have to suffer through. The bitterness, the desolation, the quiet the season carried with it which left him feeling as though everything was alighted in slumber except for him. Even the birds he gazed up at now had retreated for the evening, roosting silently above his window, puffed up like small bundles of wool in their bid to remain warm.

  Despite the harsh wind pricking at his eyes, Levi put his head back down and continued his work. Lamenting the piercing bolt of fiery pain which traveled from his left hip up to his shoulder blade as he rubbed at the muscles.

  Though he hadn’t experienced many injuries in this life and nothing significant at that, the pain wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. He gritted his teeth, digging in again, tossing snow and fractured crystals of ice to his right onto the little mountain he had created next to the road. It would have been pretty if he could still feel his thumbs.

  Eren had done this every day. While confused and hurting, strings he was unconscious of, pulling at his heart, and still, he persevered, slogging away with a smile on his face. Fighting the chills while enduring his unexplained memories, yet always he arrived to repel the blight of winter with Levi’s beaten old shovel from around his little shop. His chapped cheeks and frost-burned nose apparent to Levi each day even past the distraction of delving green eyes and a grin so sunny it could melt the icicles hanging from Levi’s awning.

  He made it more bearable, even so, winters were for appreciating through windows while Levi sat wrapped in a blanket nestled by the fireplace, a hot cup of tea or cocoa in hand. His best memories of that time of year were of snowball fights, and clear star-filled skies with Eren’s hand in his own before coming in from the cold on a blustery day to have his face warmed with kisses and brushes of lips across his cheeks.

  With a sigh and a pinch to his brow, Levi sent the visions away, leaned on his shovel and looked at his hands. They were a sickening shade of white, fingertips and knuckles turning blue. He should have worn gloves. He could go back and fetch some, but he was close to finished, and if he retreated, coming back would be more loathsome than it already was.

  About to return to the drudgery, he caught a familiar voice scolding, “What the hell are you doing?”

  His head snapped up with a sharp breath through his nose as he sought Eren through the murk of twilight, and called, “Oi, I was helping.” There was no question he had been caught shivering, probably scowling down at extremities which were close to falling off or shattering when he saw Eren walking toward him as fast as he could while he negotiated the slippery walk.

  Eren nearly lost his footing on the last patch of ice to be removed, recovering with a smirk before he slid to a stop, coming to a halt in front of Levi. “That’s supposed to be my job,” he admonished as he attempted to pry the shovel from Levi’s hands.

  Though his movements weren’t insistent, Levi blinked, holding his eyes shut for a beat when Eren ceased pulling and instead wrapped his hands tighter around Levi’s all but frostbitten ones.

  He could feel their warmth even through the buttery leather of his gloves, the embrace both robust and gentle at the same time. Levi sniffed when Eren’s thumb shifted over his own, the movement jerky at first, but smoother as he brushed it over Levi’s weather-beaten skin once more, twice more, three times. Levi took the chance to distract himself from the buzz ripping through him as he appraised Eren’s appearance. He looked different today, wearing grey pinstriped trousers which were for once pressed, and a matching flannel sack coat. His eyes peeked out from under the brim of a homburg. Levi suddenly felt underdressed in his worn out newsboy.

  Eren cleared his throat, eyes focusing somewhere in the vicinity of a polished brass button on Levi’s coat. “You shouldn’t be doing this, Levi.”

  ‘Shouldn’t be,’ but he needed to. He had already dusted the shelves twice, rearranged the books, correcting their order due to customers thoughtlessly setting them back in the wrong place. He swept and mopped and swept again. Then filled five pages of his sketchbook with pictures of Eren. Scribbled and scratched down his beauty as best he could muster until his hands were black and the pad of his index finger was sore from blending.

  “It is my shop,” Levi countered.

  “But it’s freezing,” Eren replied with a shiver. “Wasn’t I doing a good job?”

  Eren was frowning when Levi looked at him, eyes now settled on his hands still enfolded around Levi’s. He should have known Eren would take it the wrong way.

  Levi smiled as his brows drew together and he swallowed down the urge to brush the hair out of Eren’s eyes. “You’re doing fine. I thought you could use a break.”

  “But we had an agreement.”

  “We still do.”

  “I do a better job than you anyway,” Eren said with a smirk. “Let me finish?”

  Levi was close to agreeing. He had forgotten about it with Eren holding his hands how he was, but the wetness under his nose prodded him to give in. He pushed the handle of the shovel toward Eren and shoved his hand into his pocket to retrieve his handkerchief. “Alright, you can finish,” he said as he wiped his nose, “but I’m staying outside while you do.”

  Eren took the shovel without further argument, tackling the last of the ice while Levi leaned back against the storefront window to watch. He shook his head while the corners of his mouth faintly rose. Eren’s coat was no obstacle in deterring Levi’s imaginings. He knew what the muscles across Eren’s broad back looked like beneath it. How they rolled and contracted as he lifted the shovel and slammed the blade of it into the resistant sheet of ice. He knew what they felt like under his hands, how they would twitch when the tips of his fingers dug in.

  In no way was Eren stronger or agiler than Levi, but somehow he had it figured out when Levi didn’t. Perhaps it was because Levi had spent so many years of his life in a silent search. Researching and drawing, attempting to finish wearisome tasks as quickly as possible, undesirable they pull them from his artwork or books for too long.

  Whatever it was, Eren was done far faster than Levi anticipated. Now they were back to the awkward glances and blushes which pervaded the previous evening after Levi had closed the shop and put on music. The weight of unspoken words attempting to force their way out pressing upon them. Eren shifting to the left as Levi turned to the right, never anticipating one another’s direction accurately enough to meet somewhere in the middle.

  Observing Eren had no books today, Levi knew he was stopping by to shovel snow or spend time with him. When he didn’t leave and just stood in front of Levi silent, expectant, he assumed it was the latter.

  Eren’s shoulders were hunched up toward his ears, fingers tensing on the handle as he pursed his lips and drew them to the side. It looked like he was keeping something trapped behind them and Levi almost laughed because of the face he was making.

  “Do you maybe want to go across to the bakery? They have tea,” Eren said.

  Levi’s feelingless fingers began to tingle as his heart rate rose, his blood forcing itself faster through his pulsing veins. Eren was looking at him neutral as ever on the outside, but his eyes had always betrayed him, and they still did. Perhaps it was the extra sparkle in them when Eren was hopeful or the way they widened a touch or how his brows drew down a hair.

  Like everything Eren had done since meeting him again, it stole Levi’s voice away. He swallowed hard and blew into his hands as he rubbed them together. “I thought you were cold.”

  Eren shrugged. “It’s either tea here or tea at the bakery,” he said, confidence clear in his voice as he stood up straighter before he wilted and whispered, “I thought maybe you would want to get out. We can go after you close the shop.”

  It was freezing, and Eren was restless, bouncing nervously from one foot to the other on his worn cap toe boots. Levi wanted to lovingly taunt him, knowing now why he had dressed up, but this was too fresh and too new. In his own roundabout way, Eren asked him on the closest thing to a date he could likely conjure.

  Relenting, Levi pushed his scarf up again. “Yeah.”

  “Really?”

  Levi nodded his head, fishing out his pocket watch, noting the time before he turned to lock up the store. “How about we go now.”

  “But the bookstore?”

  “Too cold for customers,” Levi said and buried his hands in his pockets. “It’s been slow since this cold snap.”

  The bakery was just kiddie-corner. Not a long walk, though Eren first tried to take it diagonally, only to trot up next to Levi and follow when he moved to cross the street. They made it across the first road without incident and almost to the next, a fast-moving carriage splashing and nearly striking them as they closed the distance on the last few feet.

  “Filthy,” Levi said with a scowl on his face. The powered carriages were convenient. He understood why almost everyone wanted one, but the rackett, the miasma which puffed from them like a mechanical digestive system, dirtying the crisp, clean air was abhorrent. Not to mention the fact no one driving them paid any heed to what they were doing or where they were going, causing the simple act of crossing the street to have become a risky undertaking.

  A second whizzed around the corner just as they were making it up onto the walk. Levi managing to almost slip on a curb with a rather nasty layer of ice stuck to it. Not the crunchy kind, not those aggressive little shards which caught the tread of a boot when they met it. Instead, what awaited Levi was polished, slick and perfect and clear as a cloudless night, deceptively beautiful. A small river which ran over the street curb into the foul storm drain below, frozen in its splendor, captured perfectly in time, laying in wait until it could break Levi’s back.

  “Got you,” Eren said as he caught Levi and straightened him up. “You okay?”

  A faint blush hinted at Levi’s cheeks as he blinked, then glared down at his adversary while he caught his bearings. He brushed non-existent fuzz from his coat and glowered at his trousers now bemired with mud. “It could’ve been worse,” he muttered. If not for Eren grabbing him, he would have landed on his ass in a puddle and probably twisted his back further. Levi had never been such a clutz in his life or any he could recall.

  His pride more or less intact, they reached the shop entrance, and Eren placed his hand over Levi’s as he clasped it around the handle. Its metal was so cold it was painful, yet he held it there while gulping down the lump in his chest. Memories of Eren slipping up behind him in the morning while he cooked breakfast stabbed into his gut. He closed his eyes, holding them shut as Eren’s arm curved against his own, halting the twitch in his fingers, fearful of chasing away the affectionate embrace of Eren’s hand.

  “Thanks,” Eren said, so close Levi had to stop himself from sagging back against him.

  He turned his head to look up at Eren, past wild wisps of hair into fond eyes sheltered by the brim of his hat. Careful not to collapse into the near embrace, he bit the inside of his cheek. A litany of endearments pressing behind Levi’s teeth. Tender dulcet whispers he hadn’t heard from his own mouth in too many years trying to thrust their way out from where he held them as prisoners.

  Eren’s eyes snapped down to Levi’s as he smiled, and Levi closed his again, shaking his head, banishing the sentiments back down to their place of exile, and asked, “for what?”

  “For indulging me,” Eren said as he pulled the door open. “I keep eating all your sweets and drinking all your tea. You’re going to let me buy tonight.”

  Levi walked inside, breathing out, “If you insist,” then sucking the same breath right back in when he felt the loss of Eren’s hand on his.

  If any atmosphere were going to cause Levi to lose himself, the bakery in the evening would be it. With the day’s light falling into slumber for the night, it was dark and cozy and warm, lit by low lamps and candles on three tables which were set off in the corner next to a crackling hearth. It smelled richly of the rustic planks of wood which covered the floor, though the varnish wasn’t strong enough to overpower the scent of freshly baked sweets permeating the air. So many things which reminded him of Eren. Butter, sugar, apples, cinnamon, and the perfume of tea, subdued and mellow, some earthy, some sharp, their accompanying spices reminding him of high pitched golden bells. It evoked memories of the quiet comfort of a home with Eren, and if the ambiance weren't what broke him, it would be Eren himself in that silent little place with its haunting music flowing from the phonograph. Hopeful mellifluous tones of a violin interspersed with the steady heartrending weep of a cello which clawed into Levi’s chest.

  Yes, something in the universe had taken the joke too far. Desired to see how much Levi could withstand, how many times he could look at the expressions on Eren’s face which were so achingly familiar before something inside would snap, and Levi would fragment into countless shards spilling onto the floor like his teacup.

  They hadn’t been there for more than two minutes, and Eren was already enchanting Levi as he stared winsomely through the display at the apple strudel, eyes and smile glowing as he pointed from where it was perched on the plate to a bowl of freshly whipped cream insisting on an extra dollop. It left Levi marveling at the near soul bursting joy a piece of dessert could elicit.

  He hid his smile, stepping up to the counter and ordering a pot of Tie Guan Yin for the both of them, and berry compote with cream for himself. If he were going to fend off the crippling impulse to blurt everything out, he would indulge and endure it with something sweet on his palate.

  Levi followed Eren over to a table for two right next to the fireplace, hiding most of his grimace when his twinging back protested at the movement as he took his seat.

  “Are you all right?” Eren asked as he freed unruly locks and planted his hat down on the table.

  Levi went straight for the tea, serving Eren first while avoiding direct eye contact. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Levi wanted to say Eren didn’t believe him because he was a shitty brat who always knew when he was closed-mouth. “Back’s a bit sore. That’s all.”

  “From the shoveling?” Eren asked with a frown, cutting into his treat with the side of his fork.

  “From almost slipping.” It’s wasn’t a lie, though Eren would immediately jump to the incident right before they arrived at the bakery. He didn’t need to know Levi did it clearing a walk which was coated with a dusting of snow so thin it didn’t really need to be removed. He didn’t need to know it was because Levi was negotiating the little patches of ice under the window ledge where no one stepped because he was terrible at shoveling. He didn’t need to know Levi was doing it because he couldn’t bring himself to continue watching Eren toil away every day only as an excuse to be with him.

  Eren shoved a too big forkful of strudel in his mouth only chewing a couple times before he said, “Winter’s your season, I can tell.” He sounded so sure of himself, more confident that a person should be about someone they met less than a month before. As if he was daring Levi to tell him different.

 _'Cocky little shit,’_ Levi thought. “I prefer autumn,” he said, omitting the detail that winter was his favorite, but only when he had the presence of Eren to keep him company during it.

  Scenes flooded Levi’s head anew, and he clenched his eyes shut, but only as long as two blinks, counting off in his head as he tried to push away images of Eren wrapped around him under blankets before a fireplace in a house by the sea. Long bare legs tangled around his shorter ones, trapping him so tight he could scarcely move. Eren’s breath in sync with his own as it disturbed the hairs at the crown of his head, slender fingers kneading into the tired muscles of his shirtless back, tracing the dimples there. Fingertips lingering as Levi reached up and felt the scratch of Sunday morning stubble on Eren’s face, then a sigh from his lips rousing a puff of laughter against his hair in response.

  The clanking of a spoon against china, drew Levi forward into the present, the memory retreating into the chronicles he kept locked in his mind, grateful when he looked across the table and saw Eren was halfway through his dessert and still completely engrossed in it.

  Though it seemed like Eren could feel Levi watching, and he picked up their conversation where it left off after a deep swallow of apples and whipped cream. “I bet I could make you love winter,” Eren said, lips quirking as he licked the back of his fork.

  Levi raised a brow. “That so?” he asked and dug into his compote. Better to fill his mouth, lest anything else stupid come out of it. It halted him from admitting how correct Eren was, though it did nothing the suppress the longing which crawled across his skin, and left a sting in his throat. There was something suggestive about Eren’s declaration, or maybe Levi saw something that wasn’t there yet, melding Eren of the past with the present.

  Still, images of Eren starved and greedy and clinging, desperate to get Levi closer flit before Levi’s open eyes, and he couldn’t shut it out. Rather than stirring him physically the scene bypassed his groin and tore deep into his chest. His skin contracting painfully, his lonesome soul starved of Eren’s embrace. The memories thrashing him with no relent as stuttered whispers of, “Not close enough, never close enough, I love you” were once again breathed against his lips, invading his ears with a rumble until he heard Eren’s voice cutting through the mist, and reeling him back.

  Levi blinked his eyes more times than he could count.

  “Sure,” Eren offered, still focused on his sweet. “We never had this weather on the coast, this is beautiful, cold but beautiful.”

  “The snow you mean?”

  “The snow, the icicles,” Eren said, swallowed an imaginary bite then took a sip of his tea before he added, “the company.”

  Surely Eren had set a trap, how quickly so many idiotic things could fall from Levi’s lips. His heart hammering in his chest as it begged for him to suggest Eren allow him to gaze upon him in the roaring firelight for hours, losing himself as he watched the flicker of flame dance across sprightly green eyes. Or perhaps he could press his face into Eren’s neck right in the spot which had always been his when they got back outside so he could feel how warm his skin stayed there even in the frost of winter.

  Instead, Levi deflected, “There’s also mud, tire tracks, and the horse shit frozen in the street,” before filling his mouth again, resisting the urge to clamp his teeth down on his spoon.

  “You have to leave the town proper,” Eren said resolutely. “Or do you always just stay in your shop?”

  “I’m not in the shop now.”

  Eren smirked and leaned forward. “No, but I had to drag you out.”

  “Drag?” Levi repeated.

  “Not drag, but you know what I mean,” Eren said and scraped up his last bite. “I found a hill outside of the town. You should let me take you there next time it snows.”

  “So you can pelt me with snowballs?” Levi asked, his ability to hide his smile or stop it from creeping up his face faltering.

  “Do I look like I’d be so mean?”

  Levi smirked. “Perhaps.”

  Eren frowned down at his plate as his fork met nothing but porcelain. “Shit...”

  “Here,” Levi said and slid his bowl forward. He planned on finishing it, but the appreciative look on Eren’s face was worth giving up half his dessert.

  “You sure?” Eren asked, eyes wide. “You’ll share?”

  Levi nodded, a laugh slipping out, though it sounded more like a cough as he watched Eren take the spoon with the slightest hint of hesitation before he tasted it, brow furrowing as he tested the flavor.

  “This is really good,” Eren said, smiling around his mouthful.

  “Shame they won’t have it much longer, the stores of berries are probably dwindling by now.”

  Eren took another bite and offered the spoon to Levi from across the table. “I can’t take it all then. Have some too.”

  Levi conceded with a nod.

  There was no way to retrieve it without brushing his fingers over Eren’s. Watching his hand, he forced it into fluid movement through sheer force of will as his fingers wrapped around the handle, holding his breath in a throat too tight when Eren slowly relinquished his grip. Somehow it felt weightier now, the thick metal warmer against his palm than it had felt before.

  His eyes drifted down to the bowl, and he shoveled up a bite, mirroring the enthusiasm Eren had devoured his strudel with. He gulped it in hard, hoping the compote would force down the forlorn sound which kept threatening to form in his throat.

  “You like that a lot,” Eren observed.

  Levi held up the spoon to Eren rather than setting it in the bowl and allowed his brows to lift. “My favorite.”

  “I know you’re not only an unassuming bookseller,” Eren said as he took the spoon, a fingertip lingering over Levi’s knuckle in manner Levi suspected was intentional. “There’s more to you than dusty old books and berry compote and tea. I want to know what else you like.”  

  He enjoyed drawing, but he couldn’t tell Eren that. There was no question he would desire to see Levi’s work. Everything he could think to say would sound so overly romantic though; roaring fires, the sunrise, listening to his phonograph, holding Eren’s hand, reading to Eren, kissing Eren’s neck right behind his ear…“I’m simple,” he said instead.

  Eren laughed. “I’ll make it easier. Do you drink anything other than tea?”

  “Hot cocoa,” Levi revealed. “They have the best hot cocoa by the river in winter. Never have been able to replicate it myself.”

  Eren’s eyes brightened. “Where everyone goes ice skating?” he asked, passing the spoon again.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you good at it?”

  “Good at what?” Levi asked and took another spoonful.

  “Skating.”

  Levi shrugged. “Never tried.”

  “You only go there for the cocoa?” Eren asked, frowning despite his smile.

  “Better than falling on my ass.”

  “We should go there,” Eren said and took the spoon from Levi.

  “What?” Levi choked into his cup of tea. “You mean now?”

  Eren shook his head. “Not tonight, but some time. It’s my first real winter, I want to try it.”

  Of all things, it was so unlike Levi to go skating, though he didn’t dismiss the idea outright. “Maybe.”

  Eren’s grin was too sly while he looked at Levi and stole a bit of cream from the rim of the bowl with his finger, his eyes boring into him as he sucked it into his mouth.

  Levi pinched at his forehead, the left side of his mouth quirking. This wouldn’t be the last of the skating discussion, but Eren dropped it for the moment. Instead, they continued talking about Trost and the snow while they shared the rest of Levi’s dessert. Eren growing more and more curious about the different places they could visit in the town while they traded the spoon back and forth between them.

  Levi couldn’t help his smile when the compote was gone, and Eren asked for the two biscuits served on the side.

  “Take them,” he said as he nudged the bowl back toward Eren. “I like the flavor, but I’ve always found them a bit heavy.”

  “I could eat a whole dozen,” Eren admitted, stuffing one into his mouth and licking the crumbs off his thumb.

  Levi smiled again. “I know,” he said, feeling his cheeks throb.

  Though small and indistinct as the expressions were, Levi had been smiling more all night. He could feel it in his face each time it happened, like long-neglected muscles which ached the next morning from disuse. A reminder it had occurred so infrequently for so long.

  Drifting along with that feeling, Levi’s chest warmed pleasantly as he gazed at Eren. His eyes shining and alive, the smallest touch of a smile pressing a crease into his right cheek as he chewed his last cookie. It felt like floating along on the current of a river, and he was surprised by how much lighter he felt as silence enveloped them while they sipped more tea. It reminded Levi of the comfortable quiet they used to share, but after too long, the lack of sweets seemed to invite the heaviness back in.

  Eren looked down into the empty bowl then back up at Levi. His expression one of both expectancy and solemnity.

  “Dreams again?” Levi asked. He had expected it, these conversations had become a nightly routine, though the regularity of it did nothing to stem the furious pump of his raging heart nor the constricting in his throat. He stood, offering Eren the warmest smile he could despite his cafard. “I’ll get more tea. I’ve got this one.”

  “Thanks,” Eren said, toying nervously with his fingers.

  Levi deposited their dirtied plates on the counter, arguing with his disobliging heart as he waited for the baker to prepare the tea, not sure if he wanted him to hurry up or take his time. Though the brew time was quicker than expected, and his legs felt weightless on the way back to the table, uncooperative and detached as he sat down and busied himself pouring the tea and trying to calm his breath.

  He could feel the bumping of Eren’s legs under the table as he held himself back, the china clattering on its wooden surface each time his knee unintentionally struck the underside. Despite his growing impatience, Eren waited, his eyes narrowing as he focused. Levi knew the look, the determined line of the jaw and the lips shut tight with the internal conflict. How the muscles in his neck tensed as he held the words at bay while his uncooperative mouth fought to release them.

  Might as well get to it rather than dramatically draw it out, Levi mused. Let himself be washed away in the memories along with Eren. “Something new?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Eren said and looked up as his legs jumped faster.

  “Take a breath.”

  “It’s not easy.”

  “Try anyway,” Levi said more firmly.

  Eren dragged in a loud breath, looking as if he was deflating when he blew it back out. He glared at the table for a moment, like he was looking for answers in it and wet his lips.

  “Eren,” Levi said, unsure why he called him.

  Eren stretched his hand across the table, stopping just short of touching Levi’s and glanced up at him before he said, “I had another dream about his hand.”

  “A different one?”

  “Yes,” Eren sighed. “And…some other things.”

  Levi could only imagine what Eren could have seen. “’Other things?’” he questioned.

  “Hm.” Eren nodded and continued. “But first it’s just his hand, the dark-haired man’s. I think the eyes I see through are closed because it’s dark and we’re laying under the blankets, but I can feel his hand in mine. It’s smaller, sort of delicate, the back of it is pressed against my palm.” He paused and took a sip of his tea. “It’s pulled up close to my face and covered in scars. A long jagged one close to his wrist, a deep wound on the back, a nick in the side which must have cut out a chunk of flesh, and smaller ones almost everywhere. But it doesn’t matter because it’s his. It’s beautiful to me anyway, and I rub my fingers over the scars counting as I go. Ten, eleven, twelve. They’re mostly smooth, but some are rough. When I’m finished, I feel the callouses on his palm, and you reach up and set it against my face.”

  Levi’s fingers tensed around the rim of his teacup, clinging to it in desperation like an anchor. He didn’t miss the slip of, “you” from Eren’s mouth, though he kept it to himself while Eren busied himself pouring more tea. He noted Eren’s hands were frantic and shaking as he set the pot back down, though not nearly as much as Levi was inside.

_Ask if it’s me._

  Eren’s hand was back again, so close Levi was sure he couldn’t slip a sheet of parchment between them if he tried, so close he could feel Eren’s heat.

  “We stay like that for a long time,” Eren whispered then gulped down half his cup of steaming tea, his eyes traveling down to him and Levi’s hands so close on the table, breath hitching before he continued. “There are scars on his back too, and one on his side.” Eren trailed his finger over his vest, and down his stomach. “And one right here.”

  Levi could feel the ghost of his touch against his own body. He gritted his teeth and closed his stinging eyes while Eren caught his breath. It was all Levi could manage to stop himself from speaking, his restraint slipping away. He knew where it was going, not sure if he would make it through the rest of Eren’s description of their old bedtime ritual. _Just a little longer, just a little more._   

  Eren leaned his face against his palm, gasping, “I can’t…”

  “You don’t have to.” _You know it’s me._

  “Yes I do,” Eren argued, a blush painting his cheeks, his tone soft and honeyed when he resumed. “We’re naked, and my hands feel the scar on your back. It’s shaped like a bolt of lightning. There are lips on my neck, right here,” he choked as he pointed to the hollow where his chest met his neck. “And they kiss all the way up…to here,” he said louder, voice rising as he ran his finger up his throat to his chin. “Then they’re pressing against my mouth, and I can taste you, and smell your soap, and feel your hands on me before you pull back and I open my eyes.” Eren wiped at his eyes, pinched the corners hard with his thumb and forefinger before he looked at Levi and sniffed. “Then you tell me that you know I’ll come back to you.”

_You always come back to me._

  Watery eyes were looking at Levi, looking into him as he felt himself spinning out of control. The kinds of memories he least indulged and Eren had unknowingly flung them back in his face. He knew where Eren was leaving to, Levi remembered the night so vividly he could feel Eren pressed against him even then, though he asked why anyway, quelling the need for his petulant tongue to spit out more. “Where were you going?”

  Without hesitation, Eren answered, “On a mission.”

  Eren had dropped any pretense of referring to either of them as anything other than each other, and Levi wondered if he realized it or not. His soul was ripping in two, head swimming, swirling with unsaid thoughts and admissions, proclamations he could not yet make. Words escaping him as he fought to stay seated, wanting to round the table and shake the connection into Eren. Hoping it wasn’t too far, Levi asked, “Were they happy?”

  “With each other, they were.”

  There was a feeling of the energy draining from the little room as they both slumped back in their chairs. Levi wanted to rub his hands over his face, try to scrub away the impulse he had to grab Eren’s hand on the table and bring him back to his flat and explain it all.

  “I think they’re ghosts…” Eren began, drawing Levi’s attention. “Trying to tell me something.”

_They’re the ghosts in us._

  “But why you?” Levi asked.

  Eren shrugged and leaned over the table. “Don’t know, but I think I used to see them when I was a kid.”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “It’s hazy,” Eren said and shook his head. “It’s not important right now. I already ruined the night with my crazy talk.”

  Levi could feel how close Eren was. If he would only jump, Levi would be there to catch him. Still, he remained as patient as he could. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

  “One more pot of tea then?" Eren asked.

  Levi smiled. “One more,” he agreed before losing his breath as Eren’s hand wrapped around his.

  He looked down and back up, watching as Eren’s eyes traveled down to their hands entwined on the table and smiled. When his gaze met Levi’s, green eyes smoldered like embers struggling back to life, bright and beckoning and spirited.

  Levi couldn’t do anything but stare enraptured.

_Don’t look too much._

_Don’t look for too long._

_Don’t get lost on grassy green hills dappled in sunlight and do not lose yourself amongst the waves in the raging sea beyond._


	9. Chapter 9

  Waking in the morning to the scent of Eren didn’t surprise Levi. Of course, Eren wasn’t there, and they hadn’t embraced the evening before, but it surrounded him nonetheless. It was in his nostrils, on his skin, woven alongside the threads which formed his sheets. He pressed the handful of blanket knotted in his fingers to his nose, it was there too, though he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not.

  It happened regularly since Eren walked him home from the bakery the week before, occurring more often as the days moved forward. He sat on the edge of his bed, and closed his eyes, succumbing to the memory as it forced its way forth.

  Arriving on the doorstep to his bookshop, Eren took Levi’s hand once more. After spending near an hour with his fingers wrapped around Eren’s, resting on the scratched surface of the wooden table at the bakery drinking one last pot of tea, the initial loss was painful. The way Eren’s fingertips glided over his palm as he released his hold, slipping away like a dream he was running to catch. Levi’s hand was frozen in ice. His back stiffened with a shiver when they stood and put on their coats, teeth chattering as if they were already out in the frigid winter air.

  Levi let the blanket slip from his grasp and stood. Gripping his own hands together at the continued onslaught to his senses, he stretched and padded to his bathroom then turned on the shower. Almost feeling the touch of Eren’s fingers in place of his own as he stripped and stepped in under the warm spray.

  Levi let the water to trickle over his face, reliving how Eren had turned to face him, looking coy, yet so innocent at the same time. Eren didn’t lean his head down and close the diminishing distance between them, he didn’t wrap his arms around Levi. Though Levi thought Eren had seemed like he wanted to when he peered down at Levi’s hands clasped at his front and reached out to take one, then held on tight.

  He was sure his heart stopped when their eyes met, the space between their faces filling up with the warm fog of their breath. Green eyes sparkling through it with coquettish mirth. Expectant, yet pleading, curious, and searching at the same time. Levi recalled breathing up all the vapors between them, the way it puffed out creating a cloud so large, he knew he hadn’t hidden the too big breath he took.

  After saying goodnight, and letting go, Levi entered the bookshop and went upstairs. As he put the key in the door to his flat, a faint caress of Eren brushed his nose for the first time.

  Even as he washed, the scent didn’t depart. The fragrance of Levi’s soap as he lightly scrubbed at his skin filling his senses until the impinging bouquet which was Eren would issue a reminder once again. In the past, it would have caused Levi to blow the aroma from his nose as hard as he could, though he could no longer bring himself to.

  It was still there while he dressed and ate a light breakfast. The pleasant memories of their latest evenings occupying Levi’s thoughts as he cleaned his teapot and cup then put them away, preparing to head down and open the shop. It was only when he heard blaring of brass horns that the calming scent drifted off, and he could no longer retrieve it.

  He moved to his kitchen window, looked down on the street, and ran his fingers through his hair, hissing, “Remembrance Day.”

  People were already lining sidewalks for the parade, waiting to get a glimpse of the actors dressed as the Survey Corps and the hulking papier-mache effigies of Titan Shifters which would no doubt follow. Enormous marionettes controlled by puppeteers down below on the street. Of course, there would be copies of Eren and Armin in their Titan forms near the end, touted as the heroes who helped win the war, and some reenactor playing ‘Humanity’s Strongest.’ Over two hundred years later and it was still a holiday.

  There would be shouting and music, battle reenactments, and the incessant pounding. He couldn’t hear them yet, but he could feel them; the beat of the war drums. Thrumming through his feet and hammering in his chest. It reminded Levi of the morning of the day they died. The sounds before the battle as they closed in, the reverberation of thousands of titans thundering across the earth, falling from the sky and smashing on the ground. Rising in force and volume until it settled so deep into his bones he felt as if they would explode from the inside and shred him apart.

  As much as the reminder felt like a twisting shard in his chest, panic rising as the sound of the drums amplified, he knew they wouldn’t die today. Instead of the parade, he focused on what would come later in the evening, going downstairs and falling into his daily habit in the comfort of his dark little shop.

  Upon arriving in the back room, he pulled in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of leather and old paper mingled with tea waiting for brewing. The movements of hands and shuffle of feet across the wooden floor took over to drown out the memories as Levi lit the stove and filled his kettle. He reached for the rooibos the same as he did each morning, brewing a strong pot before he unlocked the door, and settled behind the counter with his cup.

  The parade route went by the shop. Levi looked outside at the people gathering and shook his head. Sweeps of a familiar green which wasn't quite the right shade. Like the leaves of a plant on the edge of wilting, or the muted hues he saw in nightmares stained umber with blood.

  He should have closed for the day, taken an extended weekend. Though, if he locked the door, Eren wouldn’t be able to come inside. He hadn’t shown him the back entrance which went straight up to his flat, as Levi hadn’t dug up the courage to invite him there yet. He drummed his fingers on the countertop, hoping the action could somehow shake his thoughts loose. It wasn’t that Levi didn’t want to bring Eren into his home, it wasn’t he was afraid of Eren. But he was scared of himself. Petrified of what he would do. Fearful of losing control. If Eren tried to hold him or kiss him, Levi feared he wouldn’t be able to hold back, the impregnable border wall he erected and vehemently guarded would be forgotten.

  It wasn’t only the past which assaulted him now, it was visions of the future as well. Pressing back against Eren’s seeking lips, Levi’s tremulous fingers finding buttons on his shirt and working their way to the patches of skin beneath which he knew coveted his touch as he demolished every barrier between them.

  Levi was used to Eren’s hand when he touched his now, but he missed Eren and longed for more. He didn’t feel as if he was going to fall apart anymore, he could enjoy what it was in the present as much as what it had been. Though it was no longer only a memory of their former lives, but the past stitching into their future like the basting of a quilt pulling the layers together. Still, it made his heart speed up in pace, his thumb prickle, and itch with the desire to trace it across Eren’s knuckles each time he entwined his hand with Levi’s.

  Other than the accidental brush of skin when exchanging money or the occasional clasp to the shoulder Levi received from customers, nobody had touched him affectionately since he was a child, and other than Eren in the past no one had gifted him with contact like what Eren gave him now.

  Those thoughts made the lonesome burden of the day more difficult to endure. It was a weight only Eren would understand or friends who were long since dead which he had never found again. He could barely draw with the distraction. Sometimes he thought he saw one of them and found himself unable to avoid looking out his window. Someone tall with a messy ponytail and glasses scurried past the window, looking too much like Hanji. If there were one other person Levi could have found in addition to Eren, it would have been them.

  The day wore itself down along with Levi’s resolve as the dark grey sky became greyer. He glanced at his pocket watch after he saw the doppelganger again and considered going outside to take a look. The charcoal between his fingers squeezed so tightly with the internal debate, he broke the stick.

  It was the jingle of the door handle which stopped him, and he whipped his head in the direction of the sound wishing it was Eren, only to find it wasn’t.

  Though Levi knew he would come, and he planned to close the shop upon his arrival. Eren was doing everything in pursuit of a relationship, visiting Levi each day, inviting him for tea and taking his hand. Eren was always the one who initiated time spent in each other’s company. Even now, a week after their date at the bakery, not once had Levi been the one to reach out. He had done nothing to reciprocate or let Eren know he was interested, only returned his gentle advances with passive acceptance. It was Levi’s turn, lest Eren begin to worry he didn’t share his feelings.

  Instead of Eren, he was greeted by a half scowling, half smiling Barney tottering in on short stumps of legs, head swiveling as he assessed Levi’s stock. Of course, he had come to the store. A military parade for a war won over two hundred years before would never dissuade the bibliophile from his customary visit, it was likely he would be Levi’s only patron for the day.

  Barney set thick paws of hands on the counter, lifting a scruffy eyebrow. “Slow day?” he asked.

  Levi nodded as he closed his sketchbook and set it down. “Forgot about the parade.”

  “It’s a bloody spectacle if you ask me.” Barney looked out the window, heaved a deep sigh, and glanced over at Levi. “Some of us believe it’s high time to let it go,” he said before he smiled. “I’d rather spend the day with my nose in a book if I’m honest.”

  “Understood.” Levi stepped from behind the counter and moved toward the fiction section. “A few things you might be interested in,” he said with a flick of his eyes to the middle shelf.

  Barney clapped his hands to each other, rubbing them together as he looked up. “Ooh! Something new?”

  “They came in last night.”

  The man had a penchant for tawdry romance stories, more likely than not, due to loneliness. It was something Levi understood, he merely employed a coping mechanism which was different. He couldn’t blame Barney, nor was he offended by his hunger for such saccharine debauchery in the midst of the blatant display of romanticized nationalism. This was a different life in a world changed from the one being memorialized in the streets outside his shop. Still, the annual reminder disentombed Levi more as each year went by. He could do without all the fanfare.

  Levi leaned on the shelf, fingers tracing lazily over leather bindings of books set on the shelves behind him as a smile curled on his lips.

  “Something by Elsa Webster, I see.” Barney’s fingers moved toward the shelf, pulling the book down and clasping it to his chest as he met Levi’s eyes. “You do know exactly what I like.”

  Levi smirked before moving back to the counter, sitting on his stool and taking up his cooling cup of afternoon Earl Grey.

  There was no doubt Barney would prattle before he paid, and Levi welcomed the distraction. If the day played out the same as every other had in the past week, Eren wouldn’t be in for a couple more hours, and without the prospect of many customers, he didn’t mind the conversation.

  “I expect to devour this in one night,” Barney said as he leaned against the counter.

  “Why I ordered so many.”

  “An old man needs a hobby.”

  Levi tapped his finger against his sketchbook. “Indeed.”

  “Your hands have been a bit more blackened lately,” Barney noted, flicking his eyes to where Levi’s hand rested. “An interesting new muse?”

  “Hm,” Levi hummed. He rarely shared his artwork with anyone because the subject matter was mostly Eren, yet over the years, Barney had been into the shop enough that he saw some of Levi’s sketches of the town. “I’ve been inspired lately.”

  “Ah,” Barney said with a smile. “I thought perhaps you had more free time with the new help you hired.”

  Levi cursed the involuntary twitch of his brow.

  “The young man who’s been shoveling snow,” Barney said, eyes all but twinkling.

  “Eren,” Levi said. “I’m still running everything myself.”

  “Yes Eren, he’s new to town,” Barney offered. “I heard down at the pub he had been to the mill looking for work. Thought perhaps you scooped him up for yourself.”

  “No,” Levi shook his head, ignoring Barney’s eyes narrowing at him and the faint traces of a smile pulling at his lips. “We have an agreement. He works to borrow books. His own idea.”

  “A pity you haven’t hired him. You could certainly use the company, and I think Eren needs the work.” Barney’s shoulders slumped as he glanced out the window, then back to Levi. “Books can be good friends, but they certainly aren’t everything.”

  “Are you implying I’m lonely?” Levi asked and wiped at the charcoal dust on the counter. Barney was needling too close to the truth, or what would be the truth if he and Eren were two ordinary people who had met. It was unsurprising the curious people in the area noticed Eren’s continued presence at the bookshop. There were no curtains to draw, and spending evenings drinking tea in the soft light of the closed shop probably led to gossip. Especially with Eren departing near midnight on several occasions. More of a reason to bring him up to the flat tonight.

  “Perhaps not,” Barney said and smiled wider. “Dahlia at the bakery said you and Eren had been in for tea.”

  Controlling his mannerisms was something Levi was adept at, though blushing was different. There was no way to hide the gentle sweep of heat he felt come to his cheeks. “Yes. For dessert.”

  “She said you were holding hands.”

  “Vultures,” Levi whispered and took a sip of tea.

  Barney’s eyes darted to Levi’s sketch pad and then to the bakery across the corner. “You’ve always been alone without anyone in sight, Levi. You can’t expect people not to take note.”

  “And talk,” Levi added, barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes. He wasn’t embarrassed by Eren, and if there were a problem with the townsfolk seeing them holding hands or being out in public, he wouldn’t have agreed to the date. Still, he couldn’t define what their relationship currently was. Not in terms, he could explain to anyone else or Eren. What was he supposed to say to Barney? _‘Eren and I are bound to each other. We’ve spent every lifetime together. He doesn’t remember me, and I have to pretend I don’t love him. By the way, I haven’t even kissed him yet because I’m afraid I won’t be able to pull myself away afterward.’_

  Barney laid a bill on the counter. “We’re a lot of nosy old fools, but we mean well. You wouldn’t want to end up a man in his sixties addicted to romance novels.”

  Levi’s eyes softened as he glanced at the book Barney had chosen. “Romance novels aren’t my favorite,” he admitted, then placed the bill in the register and counted out the change. “No bag, I assume?”

  “Of course not.” Barney tucked his new book into the inner pocket of his coat. “I’ll have a nice relaxing evening tonight,” he said as he patted his hand on the volume’s new resting place.

  Levi brushed his hands together and watched as Barney hurried to the door, halting when he grasped the handle. “You have yourself a good evening too, Levi.”

  Levi didn’t miss the wink or the warm smile and shook his head with a soft smile of his own as Barney departed.

  Meddling townsfolk appeared to be a theme in all of Levi’s lives, although they had been more persistent in this one. The butcher, Oswin, who regularly asked Levi when he would find himself a sweet girl, Dahlia hinting desserts were better when shared with someone you loved, and then there was Barney. Quiet, yet observant. They were all too observant. Though Dahlia was correct. Desserts were better when shared, Levi thought as he recalled the taste of berry compote and Tie Guan Yin when he was with Eren. Better with Eren grinning, and brilliant wide green eyes looking enthusiastically into frangible porcelain bowls filled with sticky purple perfection.  

*****

  It was nearing five when Eren arrived at the shop. As soon as Levi saw him, he knew something was off. His smile wasn’t as big as usual, and his arms were wound around his middle, holding himself. Levi wondered if the holiday bothered him despite Eren not knowing why.

  He shakily raised his hand, only offering a, “hello,” before he was unbuttoning his work coat and averting his eyes to the floor.

  Levi cleared his throat as he took Eren’s outerwear and paused in front of him. “You look rattled.”

  Eren wrung his hands and looked around before he dropped his voice. “The town was strange today.”

  “Remembrance Day,” Levi supplied. “Not my favorite holiday either.”

  Eren seemed relieved at Levi’s comment, and he leaned back against one of the bookcases, his stance relaxing. “I went to the mill today. It was quieter on the other side of town. I think I have a job.”

  Levi smiled. “Good.”

  “I’ll be done early enough every day that we can still have tea in the evenings.”

  Levi planned to wait, to have tea downstairs before he asked, but when he sensed Eren’s ambivalence, he decided it would be prudent to take him upstairs. It would serve them better as well, to escape from the hoards of onlookers gathered on the sidewalk, their cloaks adorned with the Wings of Freedom flying in the harsh breeze, a banner to a past they could never know.

  “Dinner?” Levi asked.

  Eren didn’t respond right away, not with words at least. He looked up from where his eyes were settled on his boots, brows drawing together as he bit his lip then smiled. “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Upstairs,” Levi said watching the gloom disperse further, feeling some of it lifting from himself as well. “I’m closing early.”

  “You’ve been closing early a lot,” Eren pointed out.

  Levi walked to the door, locked it, and turned the sign as if to punctuate his decision before he turned back to Eren. “A cold snap and a holiday don't leave much reason to remain open.”

  This wasn’t different from what he and Eren did in the past. Taking dinner to their room on days like this. The days when the celebrations were too severe, the loss of their compatriots gnawing like jaws through the excitement of victory, and the relief they still possessed their lives. Levi had always despised it. Riding back through the entrance of the wall exhausted and beleaguered on his horse, too many lives short while listening to shouts of adoration and contempt alike.

  They never talked about it, but there was a silent mutual understanding during those evenings. Most often Levi heading to the mess to fetch dinner for them while Eren remained behind and prepared tea.

  Eren looked adrift, a bit astonished and nervous as if he was attempting to contain himself. “You’re going to make dinner?” he asked.

  Levi’s lips curved. “I have some calf, parsnips, potatoes, and bread from the bakery. I thought stew.”

  Eren mirrored Levi’s expression, lips twitching up in the broadest smile Levi had seen from him that day. “Been awhile since I had stew.”

  It likely wasn’t often Eren was able to eat meat. Being on a budget, it was reasonable to assume he survived on second-rate tea and toast with butter then perhaps some cheese or vegetables if he decided to splurge. Though Levi was aware, the draw wasn’t about food in its totality. Of course, Eren did like a good meal, and sweets, how he loved desserts, but this was more about the invitation than anything else.

  “Follow me,” Levi said, turning out the lights on his way to the back room. He could hear Eren’s footfalls close behind him, the pace of his feet quickening with a beat matching Levi’s heart. He had yearned for almost two decades, built it up in his mind, pictured Eren standing in his apartment, crossing the threshold of the door which led to the stairs. Still, his mouth grew dry while his palms began to sweat.

  He could hear Eren’s breath speed up while he stood behind him as he fumbled in his pocket for the key. He was so near Levi could once more feel his heat, almost feel Eren’s anticipation.

  Levi stopped cursing his sweating hands when they made it upstairs, observing Eren as he stepped into the center of the kitchen while he hung his coat on the rack by the door. It was dark, the room still unlit, but the light from outside framed Eren. The glimmer playing on the left side of his hair and emphasizing the slight furrow in his brow as he took in the new surroundings with a deep breath of the air.

  Watching Eren from the corners of his eyes, Levi turned on the lamps, chiding himself for not having more. The back of his throat tingled as he noted the glow highlighting Eren’s angular jaw and an effulgent blush to his cheeks. He ever loved Eren’s face in this form. When it began to refine with muscle, cheeks losing the plumpness of youth, the divot below his ear connecting to the sinewy tendons of his neck. His Adam’s Apple was more prominent now, and Levi knew how it would feel bobbing against his skin if Eren swallowed while he held him close.  

  Eren’s shoulders came up with a breathy, “It’s nice,” before his eyes crinkled and he looked around again.

  “Tea?” Levi offered and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Thanks,” Eren said as he sat down. “Do you need help?”

  Levi turned toward the counter and closed his eyes. “You can peel potatoes.”

  The ritual of making tea which had always relaxed Levi offered no solace as he went through the motions. Eren was so much his Eren. The tone of his voice, the offer to help, the anxious energy stuffed behind the calm facade he was putting up. It reminded Levi of his teenage Eren in lives past. Eager, jumpy, pursuing Levi as carefully as possible while fearful of his rejection.

  Levi could hear Eren scraping his feet nervously on the floor while he pulled ingredients from the pantry, and the needling urge to take his hand and tell him everything was all right refused to relent.

  It was silent when Levi sat down, and they started peeling vegetables, the serenity of the shared task falling over them like a blanket. Interrupted only by the occasional clank of teacups being set on their dainty plates, or the thunk of prepared vegetables dropped into the bowl. Levi kept his eyes downcast, though most often they fell back to Eren’s hands, the parsnip in his own remaining still as he watched Eren’s fingers deftly shucking away the skins. He could feel Eren peering at him when he raised his eyes, the tingle on the top of his head spurring his fingers back into motion each time it occurred.

  “Glad that racket is over,” Eren said into the quiet, his voice mixing with the rhythmic scraping of knives against hard roots.

  “Antiquated and grotesque.” Levi was grateful they retired to the flat before the worst parts of the celebration began. He saw it before in years past, ‘Humanity’s Strongest’ cutting ‘Humanity’s Hope’ from a dummy crafted of wheat paste and heavy paper, but he and Eren had lived it even if Eren didn’t remember. He didn’t require the reminder.

  “Probably bad for business too,” Eren said as he set his last potato in the bowl. “I don’t know why it bothers me,” he started and looked across the room to the windows, “but it felt like I was looking at the world through a dirty windowpane all day. Like the…”

  “Like the colors weren’t right,” Levi finished.

  “Yeah.” Eren played with the paring knife in his hand, poking the tip against the pad of his finger before he met Levi’s eyes. “Nothing looked right until I came here.”

  Levi bit his lip and gave a thoughtful nod as he watched Eren continue to toy with the blade. Eren’s mood lifted upon arriving at Levi’s, yet Levi knew why he was sullen, to begin with. It was the same for them both.

  If Levi did as he wanted, reached across the table and sifted his fingers through a lock of Eren’s hair, or perhaps enclosed his hand over his in a gesture of understanding, Eren wouldn’t comprehend it. It didn’t fit the narrative they were in the midst of living with, and Levi couldn’t explain how much he hated this day as well. Admit he was trapped, struggling awake from the edge of a nightmare since the morning until he saw Eren again.

  “Music?” Eren asked and tapped Levi’s shoe under the table.

  “Next to the hearth,” Levi said with a mild smile. “You choose.”

  Eren’s eyes were gleaming at Levi when he looked up. A smile creased his left cheek before his brow descended in contemplation as he stood and appraised the collection of songs.

  Levi knew the choices would be a bit overwhelming. Though besides it being something which would make Eren content, it gave Levi a moment to himself while he started on their stew.

  “I’ll tend the fire,” Eren offered as he crouched before it on his way to the boxes of musical cylinders stacked in the corner. “It’s chilly.”

  “Plenty of wood in the box.”

  Levi could think of better ways to stay warm, though all those notions required pressing himself against Eren or taking him in his arms. Tangling themselves together as Levi pulled thick down as tightly around them as he could until the world melted away and all which remained was them. The universe blotted out, abandoned to heat and breath and wistful devoted eyes, their bodies crushing so close Levi couldn’t tell where he ended and Eren began.

  Shaking his head, Levi began chopping and frying, sending his fantasies away to the overstuffed file in his mind. This wasn’t what he was supposed to be thinking about. If anything, he should have been deciphering how to demonstrate his feelings in a way which wouldn’t be so intense he might frighten Eren away. As difficult as it was becoming, he intended to control himself.

  Though the task felt insurmountable when he heard the music Eren chose as he added the last of the broth to the pot. The woeful piano melody Eren often played in the past. It was a newer tune during The Catalyst, yet it had followed them in their lives since. Memories cascaded of Eren tugging him to his feet with a mischievous grin on his face. Making a reluctant Levi dance with him, the apprehensive expression on his face erased in under ten doddery steps together.

  Levi heard the soft scraping of boots, though it wasn’t the sound of Eren dancing. They were moving closer, and he gripped the edge of the counter, his nails digging into the underside as an expectant tingle ran up his spine. Had he been deaf, he still would have known Eren was inches behind him. It wasn’t only his warmth, but his energy, something unseen stretching out from within Eren toward Levi, and something inside him reaching back.

  “Do you need more help?” Eren said.

  Levi felt it more than heard it, Eren’s voice brushing against the back of his head and neck.

  “Since you offered.” He ripped his tensing hand away from the counter’s edge and handed Eren a spoon, though Levi didn’t dare turn around. Not with the way Eren’s fingers closed over his hand, trapping it for an extra moment before the smooth wooden handle was sliding out of his grasp and Eren was shifting toward the pot bubbling with stew.

  They remained close while they cooked, their elbows knocking and arms brushing more times than Levi could count, Eren’s proximity never farther than a few feet away. It was like times past.

  Through the years, when Levi took his dinner alone in his flat, he pictured Eren in front of the stove. Seeing him now as he stirred, stopping to adjust the heat, vigilant not to burn their meal, he morphed into Eren in the early morning. Standing there in his nightshirt, bed hair topping his head while he made them breakfast. Aside from the pulsing river of tension it caused in Levi’s body, there was a dichotomous warmth thrumming through him while they worked in the kitchen together as they always had.

  When they sat to take their dinner, the sensation didn’t wane. Levi often envisioned Eren sitting where he was now, and he saw it once again as he settled into his seat after the table had been set with steaming plates. Despite the visions, the scratch of chair legs across the floor pulled Levi into the present as Eren pushed himself in. He wasn’t a dream.

  Eren’s eyes settled over their savory meal then darted up to Levi’s face, giving a satisfied huff before his excitement rinsed away, revealing the timidity behind an imploring smile.  

  Though Levi sensed Eren’s trepidation when he watched his hand hovering over his fork as if he was unsure of what to do next. He broke off a piece of bread. The heel Eren always liked and handed it to him. “Eat.”

  “Thanks.” It was quiet and breathy. Like Eren was holding himself back as he took up his fork and dug in.

  Food was the last thing on either of their minds, Levi knew this. There was a spark in the air, humming between them, too many unspoken thoughts, restrained gestures, and filling their stomachs was doing nothing to help it abate.

  Levi watched as Eren used the butter then passed it across the table with shaky hands, setting it to the top left of Levi’s plate like he always had when he finished. He sipped tea to swallow down the ache in his chest, though he didn’t cease his observations. Next noticing Eren took a pinch of salt, his fingers rising up over his plate as he rubbed the pillars between his thumb and forefinger, sprinkling them onto his meat in his usual habit. Eren from multiple lives flashed before Levi’s eyes, flicking fast like thumbing through the pages of a picture book.

  Fighting the memories back as best he could, Levi instead concentrated on the present. Focusing on Eren’s foot tucked up next to his shoe under the table, his knee knocking gently against his own. Each time it happened Eren looked up, and Levi wasn’t sure if he was asking permission after the fact or waiting for him to do more.

  When they were finished, Levi sent Eren to watch the fire and restart the phonograph while he cleaned the dishes. His chest was thumping, skin tingling so acutely it began to feel numb. As if without Eren’s touch it would lose all its feeling. He needed to center himself.

  With a contemplative frown, Levi grasped the bowl in his hand and rinsed it. Eren had been exceptionally quiet throughout the evening, though it wasn’t quite the same as the silence they shared in the past. Previously, it was comfortable, reassuring, but now it was different. There was the warm homely feeling as before, though there was restlessness between them as well. A momentous verve which Levi wished he could be irreverent to. It left him with the desire to cast aside restraint, forethought, carefully crafted planning, and just be with Eren. The impulse to cease thinking with his head, and instead with the heart battling in his chest.

  “Sometimes…” Levi heard Eren whisper as he watched him poke at the fire from where he was sitting on the rug.

  Levi dried the last piece of china and set it in the cupboard. “Sometimes...” he repeated.

  “Sometimes when I think of you, I’m not sure if I’m seeing you or the man in my dreams.”

  Eren thought about him, and Levi wondered what about. If like himself, Eren spent his days with hints of Levi braided throughout his mind. Like a cherished mist which seeped into every facet of his thoughts as Eren did for him. He was curious if it was only him who saw skin pulled taut over rolling muscles beneath his hands, felt lips skimming over each jutting bone of his body with murmurs of adoration branded across them. He wondered if Eren thought of counting the imperfections on his hands the way he did in his dreams.

  Taking a deep breath as quietly as he could and forbidding the frantic flipping of his heart in his chest, Levi approached Eren. “Does it matter?”

  Green eyes flashed in the firelight. “I don’t know.”

  Levi came to stand before the hearth, and Eren reached up, catching his hand as he stopped. Closing his eyes, Levi squeezed Eren’s hand back, grounding himself in the feeling. If he thought of only that touch, he wouldn’t fly apart.

  His eyes were still closed when he felt Eren stand. There was a pause before he heard a deep breath, then painfully familiar lips pressed against his forehead as a whisper of, “Dance with me” alighted on his skin.

  Swallowing hard, Levi nodded, his trembling hands skimming over Eren’s back when shaking arms encircled his waist.

  There was no movement in time with the music, only Eren holding Levi tighter and resting his cheek against his temple before he breathed an admission over Levi’s ear. “I wanted to know how this would feel.”

  The oxygen left Levi’s lungs in a whoosh when Eren’s palms slid up and pressed gently below his shoulder blades, urging him nearer. Levi wanted to ask Eren if it felt the same as before. Instead, he turned his face toward his neck and breathed in all he could, filling himself up with Eren until he was so full he was sure he would burst.

  His eyes remained closed, other senses stretching out, searching. Eren’s scent wrapped around him like an embrace, smelling the same as always. The feel of Eren’s pensive fingers tracing his spine through the thin fabric of his shirt, the same motions as last time they were together. Eren’s chin fitting perfectly against the curve of his face where it rested against his cheek.

  Levi desired to pull his head away and gaze into green eyes, to see if they looked the same as they did in the past. Instead, he willed his boneless legs to stand and felt the pulse in Eren’s neck with his lips. “What you thought it would be?” he said as Eren began to sway them side to side.

  “More,” Eren admitted into Levi’s hair.

  Levi didn't look at the mess of golden brown locks as his hand moved up, fingers beginning to slide through them. He was coming home. Longing to feel the smooth strands for too long. They were the same as they ever were, slipping over his skin like wind through bare branches, the loose waves wrapping around his fingers, trapping them as if they didn’t want him to let go.

  He heard Eren gasp before he clung tighter. Something between a whimper and a whine which sounded as if Levi had stolen the breath from his lungs.

  Eren’s hands dove into Levi’s hair. His fingers holding his face against his skin while his thumbs stroked over the soft stubble of Levi’s undercut behind his ears as he uttered a whisper too quiet to hear.

  It was all so familiar it could have been another life. Levi could kiss Eren as he did when Eren knew he had done it thousands of times before. Smiling against his lips and calling him a brat when the music ended and Eren asked for another dance. Then they would make the night’s last pot of Sencha, and Eren would lean against him on the couch while they read until it was late enough for bed. Their clothing laying folded and forgotten on the top of the dresser, the feel of skin against skin perhaps leaving them heated and falling into one another, or not.  

  Levi heard the echoes of Eren’s voice from another time, soft against his neck, asking to be the little spoon. A small memory of something Levi wouldn’t hear that night.

  What he could hear, was the music growing slower as the persistent phonograph demanded more cranks. Despite the dying of the song, they ignored it, neither willing to loosen their hold.

  The pressure from Eren’s thumbs instead increased against Levi’s head as he coaxed him away from his neck.

  Levi didn’t fight it and opened his eyes when he felt his bangs disturbed by the light puff of Eren’s breath.

  Calloused thumbs slid forward and traced Levi’s cheeks, Eren's hands cradling either side of Levi’s jaw as he looked into him, searching as if he knew what he would find. He wet his lips, his eyes flicking back and forth between Levi’s mouth and eyes.

  Levi didn’t think about it when he tightened his fingers where they remained in Eren’s hair, nor did he contemplate before he stretched until he stood on his tiptoes and touched his lips to Eren’s.

  Burgeoning heat bloomed through Levi as the twitch of silky winter-chapped satin brushed back, tender and yielding and timorous.

  There wasn’t the hunger Levi had expected, nor the desperation he tried to steel himself for, only the joining of two people lost from each other, acquainting themselves with one another again. A kiss so delicate yet promising, it reminded Levi of the caress of salty breeze at the house by the sea.

  Eren’s hands relaxed, his fingers slowly trailing down Levi’s throat, pausing before they clasped around the back of his neck as he pressed a chaste kiss to Levi’s mouth then pulled away.

  Levi opened his eyes and watched Eren’s lips curve minutely as their foreheads met before he was tugged into a torrent of brilliant green. He didn’t let go, couldn’t release the hair in his hands, or the shoulder his fingers clung to. He could stay like that forever, he didn’t want to move, he didn’t know what to say, finding no meaning in platitudes. Even ‘I love you’ wouldn’t be sufficient.

  He was drunk to it, his head foggy, heart sentimental, only desiring to hear the melodious beat of Eren’s heart. What he would have given to take Eren to his empty bed, for nothing more than to hold and feel him, to wake up and find sleepy eyes under the flutter of thick eyelashes blinking back at him. He wanted to ask Eren how he was supposed to let him ever leave again, but as always, his recalcitrant lips refused obedience.

  “Should I wind it again?” Eren asked.

  “You…” Levi started, catching a word between his lips before he continued, “like music.”

  Always. Eren always liked music.

  Eren’s voice was shaky, though there was certainty in it. “I like being with you,” he said and slowly released his embrace.

  Levi hadn’t dared done so when their mouths were pressed together, but he let his tongue peek out to taste Eren on his lips, eyes falling shut at the flavor. Something he could only describe as honeyed tea and springtime, as was ever Eren’s essence.

  Unchanged, comfortable, home.

  If the night were a test, Levi could say he passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a tiny bit happier today, guys? Feedback is appreciated. <3


	10. Chapter 10

  The day began with a visit from Dahlia. A blast of wind invading Levi’s little shop along with her curiosity when the door opened.

  Kind eyes looked up from under a fringe of grey hair as she approached Levi stocking books on a nearby shelf. “Good morning,” she said, holding out a basket covered with a soft bit of cloth.

  Levi raised his brow in question as he took the offering from her hands.

  “Something sweet for you and Eren.”

  Levi sighed. She brought food, he would return the favor. “Would you like some tea, Dahlia?”

  “Of course.” She smiled and brushed her hands over the front of her coat then loosened her scarf. “Do you have any of that Gunpowder today?”

  “I do.” It was a brew Levi usually reserved for when he was in a mood, the intense flavor too much for when he wanted to relax. Perfect for the conversation he knew was coming.

  Dahlia took a seat in one of the chairs and Levi went to the back to make a fresh pot. He stood in the supply room, hiding after he stoked the fire in the stove then checked it twice more for good measure. He should have known she would visit after Barney nosed around about Eren only the day before. They were like two peas in a pod when it came to meddling, and Levi wondered how they never got themselves together. If he were a different kind of person, he would have given them both a poke in that direction.

  Hearing the teakettle sputter, his eyes narrowed. Of course, it was boiling too fast, steam already beginning to burp from the end of its spout, like a reminder. It wasn’t often Levi’s ritual of making tea could leave him feeling anxious, but the dented little kettle seemed to mock him as he balanced the sieve in the mouth of his tiny porcelain pot.

  Despite its persistence, he only shot it a glare then spooned in pearls of green leaf and added half a serving extra for strength. It should have been relaxing, yet he found himself winding up rather than calming down, his teeth grinding when water spewed onto the stove.

  With a restrained scoff, he snatched up a towel and grasped the handle of the teapot, pouring as slowly as possible then leaned back, keeping a careful eye on his pocket watch while it steeped. If only the remainder of the workday would move this quickly, he thought.

  Dahlia coughed from the sitting area as if to remind him how long he was taking, but he played one final card of procrastination, and looked in the basket, then scanned the tray as he heaved a ragged sigh. Everything was there, neatly laid out and ready for sipping. There was nothing left to eat up more time.

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped out.

 “Oh, there you are,” she said.

  He set the service on the table and sat back in his chair. Settling in, he propped his left ankle on his right knee, then retrieved his teacup and took a sip.

  “Did you peek in the basket?” Dahlia asked.

  “Apple cake with extra cream,” Levi said. “Thank you.”

  Dahlia offered a smile, looking pleased with herself. “You know, apples are Eren’s favorite.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “I added some extra cinnamon as well,” she said, tipping her head forward as if she was letting Levi in on a secret before she added, “he likes that too.”

  “Hm,” Levi hummed. He was drinking his tea faster than he liked. There were ways to get the conversation over with more quickly, though none of those prospects felt attractive. He knew apples were Eren’s favorite. They always were, though anything he disclosed during the conversation would be whispered around the sewing circle before the sun turned in for the night.

  “Barney came over to the bakery yesterday,” Dahlia offered.

  Of course he had.

  “With his book?” Levi asked.

  “Yes.” Dahlia looked up at the ceiling before she dropped her eyes back to Levi. “Spent the entire afternoon in there, drinking tea and eating pound cake while he read.”

  “His favorite author.”

  “He told me you hadn’t hired Eren to shovel for you,” she said with a click of her tongue.

  Wishing someone would come along to disrupt them, Levi conjured up the image of the most annoying type of customer he could think of, attempting to summon them like a demon as Dahlia scrutinized him. Someone unsure, expecting him to have devoured each volume which sat in his shop, a person who would try and discuss every facet of every book they had ever read. A person who wouldn’t talk to him about Eren.

  “We have an arrangement.” Levi shifted in his chair and switched his legs, planting his right ankle on this left knee. “He was interested in some books that aren’t for sale and offered his services when I agreed to lend them.”

  “Ah, how nice.” Knobby fingers slid through the handle of her cup. She wasn’t finished yet. “He spends quite a bit of time in the store for shoveling snow, don’t you think?”

  Levi’s nails dug into the arm of his chair. “He likes books and my tea.”

  “He likes you.” She set her cup on the table and leaned forward, her expression growing firm. “You’re all he talks about when he comes in to get his cookies.”

  His tea was already half gone, but Levi glowered behind another sip. “He seems to be the talk of the town, Dahlia.”

  “The town talks about everything. You know that.”

  Levi snorted. “Tell me about it.”

  “He’s a sweet boy,” she said with a sigh as her brows drew together. “I want to be sure you know that.”

  She stared at Levi with a piercing glare, stern and severe, pinning him to his chair. Eren always had a way about him which endeared most people. It didn’t change from one life to another, something bright, charismatic, and magnetic about him which Levi could never find the proper words to describe.

  It took all Levi’s effort not to adjust his position or stand. Her concern came from a place of care, yet the insinuation left him with the urge to roll his eyes and draw out each syllable of his response. Eren’s emotions didn’t need protection from him. He knew Eren better than anyone else, more than the residents of Trost who only met him three short months before.

  Restraining the tightness in his voice, Levi said, “If you’re concerned about him, don’t be.”

  “So you’ll share the cake with him this evening?” she asked.

  “After dinner.” He had no intention of eating cake alone. Though they hadn’t shared another kiss the previous evening, Levi succumbed to two more dances before they sat before the fire, the comfortable, familiar quiet of lives past descending over them. If Eren were as forward again, Levi might place the entire piece on one plate and set it in the center of his kitchen table with two forks.

  “You’ll make a nice pair.” She looked at Levi resolute, with a sureness which reminded Levi of Eren before she gazed out the window, hugging her teacup in her hands. Something flashed over her eyes as Levi observed her, watching her lips draw a thin line and press down at the corners. Perhaps missed opportunities and memories. Something far off and out of her reaches as if she saw it beyond the bookshop she sat in, farther away than the streets and shops outside. Grasping at moments in her past which were behind her.

  She cleared her throat. “You’re both named after famous soldiers. That has to mean something.”

  Levi tried not to laugh into his cup. “More tea?”

  Dahlia gave a knowing smile. “No, thank you,” she said, finished her last sip, and set her china on the table. “You know I only came here to stick my nose in your business, and I’ve done that.”

  Levi smirked. “As always.”

  She stood, wrapping her ever-present scarf tighter around her neck and gave Levi a pat on his shoulder. He once knew someone else who clung to a similar article of clothing. “You and Eren enjoy your dessert tonight.”

  He walked her to the door, pressing his fingertips to his forehead once she was gone. Blessedly, the next day was Sunday, which meant he didn’t need to open the shop and would be treated to a day without being surrounded by curious townsfolk and patrons. The perfect time to take Eren to the river for hot cocoa, or the snowy hill outside the town center.

  He mentioned wanting to see those places with Levi when they were at the bakery. Still, the prospect of asking caused a churn in his stomach. A flip which felt as though it bounced toward his heart, sending it soaring straight up into his throat. What if Eren wanted to spend time with him in the flat all day?

  The next several hours came with a surfeit of customers, good for the cash register, good for a distraction, but trying and exhausting as well. If there were a way to make a copy of himself, Levi would have. Between running behind the counter to ring up sales and trotting to the shelves to answers questions, he felt himself pulling too tight. Like a music box wound too far, the frantic meter tearing through the silence when eager fingers set the ratchet lever free.

  It was only when Eren arrived in the evening Levi felt his agitation abate. Eren was glowing, though his cheeks were red from spending time outside shoveling, and his gait was stiff from the cold. There were still shoppers milling about the store, though Levi dismissed them and went to the back to prepare tea knowing Eren would sit and wait for him to close down the shop for the day. When he returned, Eren was already snuggled into his customary seat, legs hanging over the arm of the chair while he paged through a book.

  Eren’s face lit up when Levi placed the service down on the table and poured a cup. “Cinnamon?” he asked, righting himself in the chair.

  “You looked cold,” Levi said and handed over the teacup, warming when their fingers touched. “A little longer until closing.”

  “You need help?” Eren asked as Levi’s hand slid away.

  Levi shook his head and smiled. “Warm up.”

*****

  There was nothing to stop the groan of relief after Levi closed the shop and they made it upstairs. Most often, he dreaded the return to his living space. The bookstore was cozy, comfortable, and safe to Levi, whereas the flat was empty, bleak, and dark. Not dark how the first level was with its rich mahogany shelves, deep burgundy carpet, and low golden lights. The flat was ever blue-black, devoid of warmth, and so hollow Levi often felt it was siphoning his spirit from him little by little. When Eren was there, it changed. His presence shined within the walls, he was like a bonfire burning away the desolation, reaching every inky corner, and filling it with life.

  Though his countenance remained impassive, Levi was rapturous when he stepped into the kitchen. “I don’t have anything fancy for dinner tonight,” he said as he poked his head in the pantry and produced the basket from Dahlia. “Would you rather we spoil our appetites with dessert?”

  A mischievous grin pulled at Eren’s lips as he hastily towed out his chair and sat down. “What kind?”

  “Apple cake Dahlia brought over.”

  Eren rubbed his hands together. “Can we have the Ceylon with cardamom?”

  Levi slid over a step and smirked, revealing a tin already set on the countertop. “Predictable.”

  Eren didn’t stay in his seat for long, insisting on doing something to assist instead. Levi let him prepare the tea, while he carefully set the cake down on one plate, his lips quirking when Eren smiled at that. The piece was big, too large even for two people, covered with thick creamy frosting, and bursting with gooey apple filling. Perhaps Dahlia wanted to make them both chubby, though more likely than not, her generosity had to do with her affection for Eren.

  She had no children or grandchildren, and Levi suspected Eren may be a surrogate for that. Not that he could blame her for doting on him how she did. He doted on Eren in his own way as well.  

  Eren looked ravenous when they sat down, and Levi handed him a fork. His eyes were wide, his expression chasing away the chill in the flat. He looked back and forth between the cake and Levi as if he were asking permission to cut into it.

  Levi flicked his chin up then watched as Eren carved off a generous forkful, mindful to scoop up an extra bit of the spiced cream for himself.

  He closed his eyes as he took his first bite, mumbling, “so good” around his mouthful.

  “Extra cinnamon,” Levi said, cutting off a piece and spearing it. Desserts were good, but he never shared the passion for them which Eren did. For Levi, the content tingle in his chest came from the pleasure of watching Eren smile over something so simple.

  Eren swallowed and slung back a gulp of tea. “Dahlia spoils me too much.”

  “I think she has a soft spot for you.” Levi tilted his cup in Eren’s direction then took a sip of the zesty Ceylon. “I’ve never known her to give away free cake.”

  “She gives me free cookies too,” Eren said beaming. “Not every day, but when I’m lucky she hands me a couple extra.”

  Levi wondered if there was anyone Eren couldn’t charm an extra few cookies out of. What was most ironic, was Eren didn’t realize how likable he was, how the people in the town already cared for him. Of course, they did. Eren was beautiful and vibrant and selfless, how could they not find him enchanting? Even so, it couldn’t come close to touching what Levi felt. To him, Eren was everything, a single glowing star in a cloudless black sky. He wasn’t perfect, but for all his flaws, the melange of dark and light was what made Eren precisely that to Levi.

  Eren gave a light kick to Levi’s foot. “I should replace all the ones I’ve stolen from you.”

  There was a cheekiness in his offer, though Levi was aware he was half serious and would make good on it if he accepted. Before Eren returned to him, he watched the plate deplete each day, the sweet biscuits consumed by his customers, but those cookies had always been provided for Eren’s consumption, even in the years before he saw him again. A platter set on the counter each morning, piled with Levi’s hopes, providing a minor connection to someone who was for a time, lost to him.

  “That’s what they’re there for.” Levi’s eyes smiled when they met Eren’s before he couldn’t look anymore and stabbed another bite of cake.

  “Yeah...” Eren either didn’t notice or ignored Levi’s deflection because he stared back, eyes twinkling as he tapped Levi’s foot under the table again. “But not just for me to stuff my face full of.”

  Levi shrugged. “They might be,” he said as he fought to keep his lips from curling too much.

  Blushing, Eren stuffed another too big morsel of cake into his mouth. Levi watched as the pleasing shade of pink bled down Eren’s neck and painted the tops of his ears while he simpered down at the plate. His shoulders beginning to rise up bashfully under Levi’s enamored gaze until he looked up and laughed, appearing irrevocably smitten.

  Levi’s heart flipped, though not from nervousness as it had been wont to do since Eren found him. Instead, it reminded Levi of times when he didn’t remember his previous lives and was so besotted he hadn’t known what to do with himself. When his hands would shake as Eren came into his sight, when the knot inside his chest was pulled so taut he believed it would turn him inside out. Those times he clasped his hands tightly behind his back while he waited breathlessly for Eren slip past his shield and reach out to him for the first time.

  The feeling built, winding up like the storm clouds Levi knew were in the distance, the flush to Eren’s body infecting him as they finished scrumptious cake and tea. Their smiles concealed behind teacups. Declarations, and confessions hindered by apples, sweet, piquant frosting, and the spongiform goodness in their mouths.

  It didn’t subside as they tidied the kitchen. Eren was hesitantly flirtatious, and Levi responded with his own coquettish hints. Bumps of arms and hips, soft abiding brushes of hands, Eren gently squeezing Levi’s fingers when they both reached for the dishrag at the same time.

  Levi prepared evening tea as he always did, though this time Eren leaned against the counter, eyes gleaming as they traveled over him. Watching delicate fingers when they opened the tin and poured hot water, then traveled up his arms, over his shoulders, pausing on his neck, before they settled on his face and Eren beheld him looking enchanted.

  It left Levi’s heart racing, only to quiet when they finished, and he settled on the couch with fresh Sencha. Eren joined him after poking the fire and adding another log to the smoldering pile. Even with the breadth of space between them, his proximity was so near and encompassing Levi could feel him. Like the wisps of steam which rose from his cup toward the ceiling, extending outward, desperate to wrap itself around him.

  Levi looked down at Eren’s hand resting on his thigh when he felt the wool of Eren’s pants brush his own, so close a shiver streaming through either of them would be enough to touch. His fingers twitched in their need to reach out, to stroke sun-kissed skin, if only to calm the prickles traveling over his back and shooting up his neck, to soothe his hitching breath.

  Something in the mood between them changed when Eren slid down the crackling leather of the couch and leaned his head against Levi’s arm.

  Levi looked down, meeting green eyes looking up, glinting and ablaze with life in the firelight, so passionate and dedicated and awed Levi’s whole body froze with the fondness. It left the muscles beneath his skin twitching as they drew tight, breathing through it while willing his obdurate limbs to cooperate.

  “You…” Eren whispered as his tentative fingers reached for Levi’s leg then outlined the shape of his hand where it rested on his thigh. “You don't mind?”

  “No.” Breathless, Levi sank into the feel of fingertips shifting to caress tenderly over his skin. His quavering muscles jumping as Eren circled each of his knuckles before his body relaxed like softening wax when he mapped the defined ridges of bone in the back of his hand down to his wrist.

  “I want to know how this feels too.” Eren took Levi’s hand in his own and settled back to lean against his side.

  His fingers swirled across Levi’s skin as his eyes followed each trail he drew over pale flesh, his touch lingering, timidly seductive and exploring. Sensual and worshipping in a fashion which Levi had yet to be given during this life.

  Levi’s nerves were buzzing, flesh reaching out to be awash in the fiery heat and sheltered gentleness which was all his Eren. He didn’t shut his eyes, only focused on their hands pressed together as his vision blurred with sentimentality and the soul-rending need for connection.  

  The remaining tightness drained from Levi’s body as Eren held up his hand above his face, studying it as his fingertips grazed reverently over scars which no longer existed. Eren’s brow creasing as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, looking closer, closer, closer like he would see what was once there if he squinted hard enough.

  Levi’s chest hurt.

  Eren peeked up from where he was settled next to Levi on the couch. His eyes bouncing between Levi’s hand holding his cup and his face.

  Lifting an eyebrow over eyes which felt drunk, Levi met his gaze.

  “That’s a strange way to hold a teacup,” Eren said, a dimple burrowing into his cheek as he pulled Levi’s hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against the back of it.

  Yanking himself from the fog, Levi’s fingers tensed on the rim as he whispered, “I’ve been told.”

  It was inevitable Eren would point it out. Levi hadn’t changed the habit since the incident occurred. In his youth during The Catalyst, he destroyed something precious, and neither death nor rebirth broke him of the practice.

  “The man in my dream holds it the same way.”

  “Something new?” Levi said. “You never mentioned it before.”

  Eren’s shoulders slumped as he sat up and leaned forward. He set Levi’s upturned hand on his thigh and closed his fingers over it. “Not entire dreams. Just little things I see,” he said, pulling his fingers back and slipping them over Levi’s palm. “I didn’t notice it at first, but before the teacup shattered, it’s how you were holding it.”

  A shiver shook Eren’s body, riding down his arm up into Levi before it found its home in his bones. There was no line, no voice which would tell him when he had gone too far or when he should risk the truth, though a niggling spark itched in his chest. “Have you heard them yet?” Levi asked.

  “No,” Eren said with a frown and turned toward Levi. “But I see more now, sometimes when I’m awake too. I see you leaning next to a fireplace drinking tea the same way. Your hands are the same when I feel them or look at them, but the scars are gone, and most of your hair is grey.”

  Levi sighed. “That’s a pity.”

  “I see some of mine when I push it out of my face, I think it has grey too. So we’re older in that dream, but scars don’t just disappear. Not those kinds of scars, anyway.”

  “What could have happened to them?”

  “I don’t know, but I see other things. Other places, weird clothes, riding horses together, slipping a key around your neck, you with a ponytail, a beach, a garden next to a house in the forest…holding your hand while you laid in our bed.”

  The memory of the key was a blow to Levi’s stomach, but Eren’s final recollection tore through him like a crack of lightning rending him into pieces.

  When Levi was nearing death in his previous life, he was confined to their bed during his last days. Eren refused to leave his side for more than a few moments at a time, managing not to shed the tears Levi could see pricking in his eyes. Instead, he held his hand, fed him tea and soup, and kept him warm, only to spill everything when Levi promised to find him again.

  Though it was Levi who most often suffered in the beginning, it was Eren who was left in anguish at the end. Still, Levi squeezed Eren’s hand and revealed nothing.

  “It doesn’t make sense, and you’re going to think I’m crazy or dangerous or worse…”

  “I doubt it,” Levi said.

  “I don’t want to push you away.”

  “You couldn’t.”

  Eren raised his head and looked at Levi. “I don’t think they’re ghosts anymore,” he said and paused, “I think they’re us…or different versions of us. Maybe from another place or another time.” He pulled his knees in and straightened his back. “There has to be more to why I had to move here, and why I wanted to go to the shop…I don’t even read that much, and then when I saw you...all the dreams came.” Closing his eyes, and with heavy breath, he said, “There must be more to it!”

  Logic and sensibility were trampled by the sharp pang in Levi’s gut. He looked at the entranceway to his studio and clenched his eyelids closed until spots of light exploded behind them. His heart was galloping in his chest as his fingers dove into his pocket, the tips touching the key to all his secrets as it clanked against the one which unlocked Eren’s basement.

  Opening his eyes, he bored a hole through the door, then looked at Eren, and back. The only thing which stood between them and the truth was a slab of knotty wood and a lock. He gulped down the boulder in his throat and took a resigned breath. “I want to show you something.”

  Levi was the only person to set foot in the room since he purchased the building a decade before. It was never meant for anyone other than them, and now Eren was before him, eyes asking for something only he could give. He saw him tearing his hand away from his decades before, running off and leaving him alone, returning a year later still angry, before a myriad of painful possible scenarios played before his eyes.

  Eren cocked his head and leaned closer. “What is it?” he asked.

  “My studio.” Levi stood, though his feet were about to slip from under him as he walked to the entrance of the room. Pushing the key toward the lock, his hands rebelled, fingers tremoring so wildly he missed the keyhole and scratched the brass handle. He pulled in a centering breath, steadied his right hand with his left, and thrust the key home with a blink of relief when he heard the tumblers slide into place. There was the click of the mechanism, followed by the squeaky knob turning before Levi pushed open the door, and glanced back. “Look inside.”

  Eren was still seated on the couch. At first, he didn’t move, only looked at Levi confused. “Artwork?” he asked.

  The silence in the flat was tangible, and Levi couldn’t take a breath when Eren slowly rose and shuffled toward him. He could have seen his entire life pass before his eyes as the sound of slow steps bounced from the floor to the walls.

  When Eren reached Levi, he stopped and turned in his direction, resting his hand on his cheek as he appraised him. “You look scared.”

  “I am,” Levi whispered.

  A sympathetic frown wrinkled the smooth skin of Eren’s brow before he bent down, pressed his lips to Levi’s forehead, and breathed, “Don’t be,” then turned and stepped in the studio.

  Levi leaned on the door frame to steady himself, ripping his eyes away from Eren’s back when he heard a gasp before he closed them tight, and grit his teeth. Eren was going to come running out, shout at him, and leave. Levi would be left to his torment and misery, isolated once again. Thrust into limbo wondering if he would ever return.

  For several minutes, all he could hear were creaking floorboards and the shuffle of papers as Eren meandered through the room. He didn’t hazard to look inside until he heard a pitiful whimper followed a thud.

  Peering in, Levi found Eren cross-legged on the floor, parchment creasing in his hands. He sat cast in shadows, trembling, appearing small and vulnerable with his head hanging slack between broad shoulders.

  His jaw was set tight as he dragged paper filled fists over his hair and swallowed hard. It was long and slow and thick as he dug something up from his chest then looked up at Levi and hiccuped. “Did you lie to me?”

  Levi stayed quiet. His arms hanging slack at his sides, head bowed, but for how relaxed he appeared, bile rose up in his throat, his insides roiling with regrets as they swooped for the center of the earth before they hit the sky.

  Lifting the drawings from his lap, Eren held them up in his hands. “These are dated from fifteen years ago…I was five, but it looks like me now.” He picked up another, thrusting it in Levi’s direction. “And this one…this one is from eighty-six years ago!”

  “Eren I…” What could Levi say? He thought of revealing the truth since he dropped the teacup, yet each time Levi contemplated it, all he could see was Eren running off. Hair swaying as he ran, his back to him as his figure shrank and the distance stretched between them until he was gone.

  Eren rubbed the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “What are you? Immortal?”

  Levi huffed out a dark laugh. “No.”

  “Explain it then.”

  Eren was more patient than Levi anticipated, calmer than he expected or deserved after his deceit.

  “I didn’t draw them all in this life,” he said, scanning the covered walls, his eyes settling on Eren sitting on the floor surrounded by sculptures and pictures he pulled from the walls and collected from the drafting table.

  “But you knew what I would look like fifteen years ago?”

  “I’ve known what you would look like for seventeen years,” Levi said. “Since I started remembering you.”

  “How much do you remember?” Eren said. Despite the tears in his eyes, Eren raised his chin, and Levi saw the strength which was always there. He was wiser now. A mix of his emotional Eren of the past and one who controlled himself better than before.

  “Everything.” Levi closed the distance between them and knelt in front of Eren.

  “I was right...they aren’t dreams, it’s not ghosts, they’re memories.” Eren set all but one of the pictures aside and fixed his gaze on the drawing still resting on his lap. Tracing his fingers over the lines, he blushed as he looked at the sketch of himself stretched out and bare, eyes closed, neck arched, his head pressed into the bedding beneath him, and wet his lips. “We were lovers in a different life,” he whispered.

  “We were more than that,” Levi said as he fished out his handkerchief then pressed it into Eren’s hand. “In all our lives.”

  Eren looked down again, studying the cloth as he rubbed his thumb over it, and scraped his teeth over his lip. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, wiping away his tears before he buried his face in his hands.

  It was slow, but Levi reached forward, weaving his fingers through the hair atop Eren’s head, and ruffled it gently. “Would you have believed me?” he asked.

  Levi’s hand fell away as Eren’s head snapped up. His expression surged with indignation before he yelled, “Yes!”

  Levi never knew the proper things to say or how to word anything when he attempted to fumble his thoughts into a sentence. Somehow though, his blundering platitudes were usually right for Eren. Despite the comfort in that, his stomach bottomed out with the fear they may not be this time. Behind the betrayal and pique, there was despair, Eren aggrieved and frustrated, yet Levi stomped down his frustration, and let himself be pulled into blazing green eyes burning a hole through him. “I didn’t want you to run away,” he said.

  Eren gazed at him bewildered. “Why would I do that?”

 “You have before.”

 “I wouldn’t,” Eren said, grasping his pant legs as he shook his head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t do that to you!”

  Levi placed his hand over Eren’s. “You were scared.”

  “You should have given me a chance.”

  “Maybe I should have, but what would you have thought if I told you everything? You don’t remember.” Levi dragged in a deep breath before he continued, “I was afraid you wouldn’t understand how you loved me before.”

  Eren looked at him, eyes glassy, faced smudged with coal. “I already love you.”

  Levi resisted dropping his gaze and swallowed hard enough he could hear it. He hadn’t heard that word directed at himself in so many long lonesome years.

  Reaching out his hand, Eren slipped his fingertips over Levi’s jaw, and said, “You were alone.”

  Levi nodded.

  “Does it hurt?” Eren asked.

  “Yes,” Levi said.

  If there were ever a time his barricade would burst, it was now. Watching Eren’s chin quiver as he pulled his hand to his mouth, and bit his knuckle, his brows descending before he shut his eyes and tears slipped down his cheeks.

  “All these drawings…” Eren sniffed. “They’re your memories of me?”

  “Mostly.” Levi dug into his pocket retrieving the key to Eren’s basement and said, “Open your hand.”

  Questioning eyes looked at him, but Eren’s fingers fell open.

  “This is what you put around my neck,” Levi said as he dropped the key in Eren’s palm.

  Eren turned it in his hand, his jaw relaxing in its bid to drop when he looked down and stroked the item which once belonged to him. “I recognize it, it’s the key I gave you...when you were asleep.”

  Levi’s voice sounded too much like dust settling when he heard it. “Yeah.”

  “What’s it for?” Eren asked.

  “To a compartment in what was your basement a long time ago.”

  Eren didn’t say anything as he clutched the glinting relic and pressed his wrist to his forehead.

  One voice inside was demanding Levi leave Eren be, chiding that he had caused enough damage by keeping the secret. Though another stronger impulse drove him to sweep the long locks which Eren was concealed behind from his face. He met no resistance when he tipped Eren’s head up, and thick wet lashes blinked at him.

  “Forgive me.” Levi couldn’t explain further, didn’t declare why he made the decision he did or clarify why he was fearful. There was too much to tell, thousands of years of history to recount. More than he could say in one night with Eren sitting on the floor crying. Though Levi knew there was never an easy way to explain, and as before, he found himself questioning how the revelation occurred.

  Eren nodded. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” he said as his hand closed over Levi’s buried in his hair. “I shouldn’t be.”

  “You’re upset.”

  “No,” Eren said, “but my heart feels like it’s being stitched back together, and the needle hurts.” He took a deep breath and pressed the backs of his fingers over Levi’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  Though Levi wanted to hold Eren, he shook his head and closed his hand around Eren’s pressed against his face. “Don’t be.”

  “I want to know you again.” Eren bit his cheek and trapped Levi with a forgiving smile. When he continued, his voice was small and raspy as he asked, “What do we do now?”

  Levi’s throat constricted at the mercy Eren gave him. A man who was so quick to abrupt and intense displays of emotion, who was so easily roused to fierce anger, offered Levi absolution. “What do you want to do?”

  Eren scanned the room. “Can I look more in here?”

  “Look as long as you want.”

  Sliding his hand from Levi’s face, Eren wiped his cheeks with the handkerchief still clutched in his hand and took a deep solid breath. “Could we have tea first?”

  Levi smiled. “Of course we can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, guys! ;) Feedback is adored. <3 <3 <3


	11. Chapter 11

  Eren was settled on the floor, drawings and books fanned out around him on the carpet before the hearth. He had fluttered about for near two hours after they sat in the kitchen having tea, moving from the table to the couch and back again as he sucked down cup after cup of Earl Grey as if it were water.

  Levi had tried to keep him calm, answering his flurry of questions as best he could while Eren paced. Mostly Eren wanted to know how he was in the past. He was interested in The Catalyst as well, but Levi avoided delving too far into their demise in that life, distracting him with other, safer information.

  For a time, he looked to Levi as if he would peel out of his skin, but now as Eren crossed his legs and took a deep breath, he reminded him more of a butterfly working its way out from a chrysalis.

  “Most of these aren’t new,” Eren said, looking at the drawings as he toyed with Levi’s handkerchief.

  “No.” Levi fixed his gaze on Eren’s hand. He hadn’t relinquished the piece of fabric since he gave it to him hours earlier. Occasionally Levi saw it peeking out of Eren’s vest pocket, though most of the time it was in his right hand, his thumb running idly over a threadbare spot as it was then.

  “It’s the worst when I first remember,” said Levi.

  “The memories, you mean?”

  “The confusion,” he explained. “Drawing helps me make sense of it all.”

  “I wish I could draw.” Unfolding the cloth, Eren laid it over his knee and began creasing it back into a square. “Maybe I would remember more if I could.”

  “I had to teach myself.”

  “Really?”

  Levi forced himself to uncross his arms from where he’d tangled them across his chest. He smirked at an image of his past self, fourteen years old, sketching what he could only now describe as green-eyed amorphous blobs. “I was shit at drawing anything at first.”

  “It’s too bad I can’t make myself remember everything you do.”

  “Maybe you will,” Levi said, “but you don’t have to.”

  “It pisses me off.” Eren sat forward, gritting his teeth, fingers shaking around the handle of his teacup as he snatched it up, stopping short of taking a drink before he continued. “It pisses me off you have to remember and be alone, and then we find each other, and I don’t know any of it!”

  Reaching forward, Levi ran his fingers through Eren’s hair, scratching gently. Eren was angry, though anger was good Levi supposed. Better than where he was after they left the studio when every question and answer caused him to cry or sniffle.

  Comparatively, Eren’s memories were already enough to fill a small book, where in the past, what he recalled were little more than vague snapshots and bits of conversation. Despite his accelerated and more comprehensive recollection, Eren hadn’t been mollified by the revelation, and Levi suspected his discontent wouldn’t be assuaged for the time being.

  “None of it’s fair,” Eren whispered.

  “No,” said Levi. He didn’t admit how many times similar thoughts had crossed his mind as he tightened his fingers woven in the strands of Eren’s hair and tugged. It wasn’t hard enough to bite, only enough to reassure him he was there.

  “Will you tell me now?” Eren turned and looked up, setting his hand on Levi’s knee as he bit his lip. His eyes were shining again, the storm in them calming when he cleared his throat. “You said that book about The Catalyst isn’t even right.”

  Levi had answered questions, so many questions, recounting most of whatever Eren asked about, though he was unsurprised Eren broached the subject again. During their earlier conversations, Eren had expressed some interest in what events occurred during that life, knowing it was plausible something happened to spark Levi’s memories. Despite his fascination, Levi deflected and hadn’t spoken too profoundly about anything regarding their deaths.

  Sighing, he rested his hand on Eren’s. “Some of what’s in that book is right,” Levi said, “though that’s not how we died. The truth is, the book makes it sound a lot more exciting.”

  “There has to be a reason you started remembering after that. What really happened to me?” Eren sat up straighter and dragged in a deep breath. “What can be worse than what’s in here?” He held up the book between their faces, waving it, blinking at Levi with eyes that not only challenged but pleaded. “Tell me.”

  He had successfully staved it off for hours, but Eren looked so fierce, defiant even, and if he were the same as ever, he wouldn’t cease pushing.

  Levi blew out a resigned huff. “First, you didn’t die while killing the commanding officer during some rampage or last stand. It was me, and it wasn’t glorious.”

  “You?”

  Levi nodded. He recalled soaring off in the direction of the screaming and the bullets and death once the steam began to take Eren from him. Fueled by immutable misery and hatred, he appeared over the battlefield like a comet, destroying more titans than he could count that day. He killed humans too, slaughtered them without mercy until he made a mistake, going too far into the thick of it to massacre the invading army Commander. Levi took him apart piece by piece with blades and bare hands, the way his troops did to Eren before Levi was surrounded, grabbed from the air, and flung away, his body left broken. “I was pissed off. I was reckless because I didn’t give a shit.”

  “What happened to you?”

  “I was smashed into a tree,” Levi replied. “I think I broke my spine.”

  “Where was I?” Eren’s chin was pulling up, and Levi could tell he was trying not to cry again.

  “It wasn’t bullshit when the book said you saved a lot of people. That part’s true.” Levi felt Eren’s hand shake where it sat on his knee, saw his brows drawing inward as the muscles in his jaw tensed. “It’s why you were already dead.”

  “How?” Eren asked.

  “It’s not pretty.”

  “I don’t care. I want to know.”

  The memories always haunted Levi quietly, though this one in particular never faded. It lingered like the scent of firewood from the hearth did even during the hottest days of the summer. Heat and humidity dredging up the ghosts of smoky logs the same way the innumerable reminders slammed it all back into Levi’s gut. Enough to bring back the taste of the battle, the smell. Blood, gunpowder, blade oil, and scorched earth. The sensation of the ground shaking beneath his feet, the feel of Eren’s cheek under his palm, the warmth of his tears on his skin.

  Swallowing, Levi said, “You were broken. You went too hard for too long, and fused with your titan.” He could see it again. The recognition of their fate in Eren’s eyes moments before he passed. His final sacrifice saved thousands but left him destroyed, his shattered body melding with his devastated titan. Both were mangled and damaged beyond repair.

  Levi had moved toward him when it happened, his own shouts all he heard as he landed beside him, knowing when he tried to pull Eren out unsuccessfully that they were nearing the end of their journey together. “I tried, but I couldn’t cut you out without killing you.”

  The tears were back, and Eren caught them from his cheeks with Levi’s handkerchief. “I knew I was dying?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Levi recalled laying down on the splintered form of Eren’s titan body, next to Eren trapped within its flesh. “I stayed with you,” he said, touching his forehead without thought as he remembered pressing it down against what he could of Eren’s. Levi had looked into his eyes, holding his palm against Eren’s cheek while he stifled his sobs as best he could.

  Eren inhaled a shaky breath and tightened his hand around Levi’s, then pulled himself up on his knees, and wrapped his arms around him.

  The past flashed behind Levi’s eyes as Eren breathed against his neck, and twisted his shirt in his hands. He didn’t know if Eren remembered, he didn’t want him to. There was no reason for him to feel it all again. Words failed him as they clung to each other, Eren’s sniffling reminding Levi of the past when they both needed this and Eren would grab him without saying anything, hanging there as they held each other up.

  When they drew apart, Eren scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a dry laugh. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about dying anymore tonight.”

  “No.” Levi stared down at his palms then leaned back against the couch. “Want to go for a walk instead?”

  “Yeah.”

*****

 

  The snow was falling when they stepped outside, big fluffy flakes, silent without even a whisper as they touched the ground. After leaving the warmth of the flat, the frigid air should have jarred them, but when Levi turned after locking the door and looked up at Eren, he was smiling. The corners of his lips tugging up gently, as if the cold shucked off the frown from his face.

  He was still just as resilient, Levi thought, the brightness of a sun which refused to sleep, obscuring the spark of darkness inside of him. He never stopped marveling at it. How Eren could absorb the worst of things, cry and rage and scream, and so often within a breath, his eyes would soften, and he’d be grinning once more.

  Levi felt worn, familiar leather brush against his knuckles as Eren took his hand and gave it a light squeeze.

  “You forgot to wear gloves again,” he said.

  “I’ll be fine.” Better to feel Eren’s fingers threading between his. Levi could suffer stuffing the other into his pocket if it meant Eren would continue rubbing warm circles across his hand with his thumb.

  “I'm surprised you wanted to go for a walk.” Eren turned them northward, leading them down the sidewalk. “I thought you didn’t like winter.”

  “I don’t hate it.” Levi cleared his throat and tried to shove his empty hand further into his coat pocket as they moved with easy steps farther from the flat.

  Other than the loud echoes from their boots on crunchy snow there was a preternatural quiet, reminding him the streets were deserted. It contrasted with the comfortable silence between them, both lost in their own thoughts as they meandered through the town. Though Levi could feel Eren watching him each time he tipped his head to look down at him.

  He glanced up, his gaze meeting crinkling green eyes which seemed both so familiar and so new at the same time. The expression behind them didn’t hold all of the weight which it did in the past, but there was more to it than Levi saw in most people. The pain of their history beyond a door with a lock halfway opened.

  He tightened his fingers around Eren’s, watching the tip of his tongue dart out to wet his chapped lips, his cheeks flushing from more than the cold when he noticed.

  Levi had felt those lips against his once before in this life, and he had memorized their feel. Silky softness, along with the rough crack near the center of the bottom one. He gritted his teeth, chiding himself for a moment with a shake of his head. Was this what he should be thinking about after Eren had been upset less than an hour before?

  Still, he envisioned himself halting Eren, brushing off the droplet of water from the snowflake which was melting on his nose, feeling chilly winter cooled cheeks with his thumbs before tasting his lips again. His lungs felt as if he couldn’t get enough air. His breathing sped up, pulse quickening as his toes twitched, willing him to stretch up for a kiss.

  Eren pressed closer, so their arms were touching. “What?”

  Levi swallowed slowly. He didn’t realize he had been staring. “There’s a snowflake on your eyelashes.”

  “Oh.” Eren reached up to wipe his eye, but Levi caught his wrist and stopped him, extending his hand up until he could brush it away. Eren’s eyes blinked under the light touch of Levi’s fingertips, the blush on his face burning up to the tips of his ears, and straight down his neck.

  “Thanks,” Eren said and grasped Levi’s hand.

  A smile was on his face again, the shy one he sometimes flashed at Levi while his eyes burned with a seductive inquisitiveness that both clashed and melded with his smirk. It was an expression which left Levi wondering what Eren was picturing behind his eyes. He could see his wheels turning and a quiet invitation as well. A look Levi knew from the past, one Eren often gave him before he’d play with the buttons on his shirt, a humble yet daring request to slide them through the buttonholes and carefully push the fabric open. Levi had always answered with a sweep of hair from Eren’s face. Then Eren’s lips would be skimming up his jaw to whisper adoringly sinful words in his ear.

  Eren kissed Levi’s palm without breaking the spell, looking straight into him as he pressed it to his cheek. “Your fingers are cold,” he whispered.

  “I’ll live,” Levi said.

  “I feel better.” Eren took a deep breath and turned to walk again. “What about you?”

  “Hm.” Levi nodded and looked up. He hadn’t noticed they made it all the way back to the corner near the bakery. “A snack, something sweet?” he asked.

  “What do you think?”

  Eren pulled Levi along the rest of the way, not too fast, though his steps were swift until they made it back to the flat. Once they were upstairs, Levi tried not to rush as he removed his hat, coat, and boots, though the small bar of chocolate he had remembered in the cupboard hastened his movements.

  Eren took off his vest and laid it on the arm of the couch. “I hope ‘something sweet’ is secret cake you hid away.”

  “No hidden cake, but something just as good.” Levi poked his head in the pantry, his lips quirking when he saw there was still a decent amount of cream in the ice chest. “Hungry?”

  “A little.”

  Once Levi had the ingredients in the pot and on the stove, he went back to the pantry. There wasn’t much, but there were bread and herbed butter, and a good bit of hard cheese. ‘A little’ was probably an understatement if the past was anything to go by. It reminded Levi of bringing Eren extra food when Hanji was running experiments on him. He never whined or complained, only did what he was asked, though Levi saw past his barrier. How tired his spirit and body were, his pain and disappointment when he couldn’t do something right. Eren now wasn’t so much different. He was probably starving, though he was already back to arranging pictures on the floor, a mission in his mind despite how much he was hurting.

  A sniff reached Levi’s ears when Eren looked at a drawing of the sea. He watched him for a moment, the knife in his hand stilling mid slice as the other squeezed the crusty loaf of bread.

  “I smell chocolate,” Eren said, his voice rising as his head whipped around.

  “Be patient.” Levi moved to stir the mixture until it was smooth and perfectly thick, smiling to himself as he watched it coat the back of the wooden spoon.

  He could almost feel Eren’s anticipation as he poured the creamy drink into two mugs and put them on a tray along with their long overdue dinner. Moving to the living room, he set everything in the last of the rapidly dwindling space beside the couch and sat down.

  Without pause, Levi watched as Eren lunged for a piece of bread and took up the knife to spread butter on it. Next, he was attacking the cheese the way he used to attack titans, making something close to a sandwich before tearing off a bite as if he hadn’t eaten all day.

  Levi lifted an eyebrow. “Starving?”

  “Yeah,” Eren said with his mouth half full. “Thanks.”

  Warming his still icy hands around his cup, Levi nodded as he inhaled curling wisps of steam, then blew across the surface of the piping liquid. It was too hot for more than a tentative sip, though he smiled as he licked the velvety bittersweetness from his lips.

  “You lied to me.” Eren chased his bite of sandwich with a gulp, the wide grin on his face left painted with chocolate.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah.” Eren’s tongue peeked out to swipe away the remnants of cocoa from his mouth. “You said the best cocoa was by the river. I don’t believe it’s better than this.”

  “You might be biased,” Levi said with a snort.

  “Definitely.”

  The hot chocolate and bread distracted Eren for a time, and Levi relaxed, watching Eren’s tension dissipate as his focus stayed mostly on catching Levi’s eyes and making more little sandwiches for them both.

  He appeared brighter to Levi, his expression now one of weary tranquility. His worries lifting away faster than he drained his cup as they shared refreshment, fond glances, and grazes of hands. Still, it didn’t last, and Eren’s focus shifted back to the pictures beside him on the carpet once there was nothing left but crumbs.

  He began rearranging the drawings once more, and Levi didn’t disrupt him, observing without comment as Eren's brow creased in concentration while he made another line across the floor and shifted closer to Levi’s leg.

  “And this came before this?” Eren placed a drawing of a house after one of himself in a green cloak adorned with a set of wings on the back.

  “Not right after, but yes.” Slipping off the sofa, Levi sat on the floor beside Eren. On the walk, it had felt comfortable and natural to be hand in hand with him, yet since returning, other than feeding Eren, he had been giving him room, space to set out the sketches, or at least that was what he told himself. Something up until then had stopped him from leaving his place on the couch. A ponderous jump in his chest each time he reached toward him and pulled his hand back. “The house by the water was when we lived on the shore of the East Sea,” he explained as he settled in.

  Eren looked at Levi, his forehead creasing as his mouth turned down. “That’s where we were…when you were stuck in bed?” His voice was quiet, hitching when he brushed the backs of his fingers over Levi’s wrist.

  Levi caught Eren’s hand before he could pull it away. “I wish you remembered something happier.” He traced a line in Eren’s palm with his forefinger.

  “I do,” Eren said. “Going to sleep is a good memory. And I remember a garden too, it’s like a flash of some prints. Your pants rolled up and dirt up to your ankles. Dinner after a bath because you said we were a mess.” He was quiet for a moment, the index finger of his free hand tapping against the rim of his mug. “I remember some other things too.”

  Levi looked down and pushed the hair from his face. “Like what?”

  Scratching the back of his neck, Eren’s voice cracked, though he didn’t drop his eyes from Levi’s when he said, “Having sex.”

  “Oh.” Levi hadn’t expected that though he supposed he should have. Eren was young, and Eren was still Eren.

  “I think I liked it a lot.”

  Levi hummed, feeling his cheeks heat up, though he couldn’t keep himself from letting out a breathy chuckle. Eren had said that before in the past, the flirty brat clinging to him after leaving him utterly wrecked and exhausted, breathing whispers against his neck, trying to entice him into going at it again.

  “I didn’t mean to…” Eren was chewing his lip, face and neck ablaze. “Don’t you think about it sometimes? There’s this picture here,” he said pointing to a drawing of himself stretched out over crumpled white sheets.

  Levi pulled a stray thread from the cuff of Eren’s shirt. “I do.”

  Looking at Levi sidelong, Eren smiled behind the hair hanging in his face before he slid down and rested his head on Levi’s thigh, then stared up at him.

  He looked so tired, Levi thought. So open and curious too, but there was exhaustion behind his eyes. They were still puffy, the edges ringed with redness from crying and lack of sleep. Levi ran his fingers through Eren’s hair, twirling around the long locks, stroking his thumb over his forehead between his brows as he attempted to will some calm into him with touch alone.

  “I need a break,” Eren said.

  “It’s late.” Levi traced the line of Eren’s jaw. “You don’t need to look at everything tonight.”

  “It’s cold out.”

  “Winter tends to be,” Levi whispered, feeling Eren swallow under the tips of his fingers.

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  Eren’s voice dropped to a whisper as he played with a button on Levi's shirt. “Are you nervous?”

  Levi closed his eyes and held them shut for an extra moment before they met Eren’s. “Usually we’ve been together for a long time before you know.”

  “You don’t know what to do.” Eren sat up. His eyes traveled over the pictures on the floor before he looked at Levi again. “I don’t know what to do either, but I don’t want to leave.”

  Levi only nodded his head. They hadn’t fallen into it as they always had before. Sometimes they slowly slid into their relationship, other times it had been a whirlwind, or like a candle lit from both ends, but never like this. Though Eren remembered more and clearer than he ever had before, it wasn’t much compared to Levi’s knowledge. Would it be right to kiss Eren’s lips until he was all he would ever taste again? Did Eren want to stay for something more than the company? Was he waiting for Levi to press him down onto the floor and remove every shred of fabric between them?

  “I…” Eren leaned his head to the side to look at Levi. “I don’t know how to be us because I don’t remember a lot…and fuck…” he said, trailing off as he leaned closer. “But I know what us feels like, and I want to sleep with you tonight.”

  Levi’s heart slammed into his ribcage. He could already feel his palms sweating. He wasn’t ready for that, though it was something else he kicked himself over being unprepared for. Eren always beat around the bush for a moment before he blurted it all out. Levi loved him for it, but he was still so god damned forward. “Eren-”

  “Not like that.” Eren rolled his eyes and smoothed his hand down his leg. “Yeah, like that too, but not tonight. That’s not how I meant it.” He smirked, then averted his eyes as the flush on his cheeks caught up with his words.

  Levi blew out a sigh as his insides turned themselves right side out. His hands had barely ceased shaking since he decided to unlock the studio. It wasn’t as though he didn’t want Eren, but not that night. He couldn’t. He was filled with too much emotion, too many questions. There was a chance of fucking it all up. If he did the wrong thing, said something stupid, or made Eren uncomfortable, he would never forgive himself. This was something people did, something Eren would expect, something Levi wanted too, but he could still feel it down to his bones each time Eren casually touched his hand, and the contact he wanted more than anything then was to be held.

  “I didn’t mean never,” Levi finally said.  

  “I know. I’ve never any way…” Eren shrugged. “But I want to be near you.” He looked down and rubbed Levi’s handkerchief between his fingers. “It’s what my heart wants, and it’s all I have to tell me what to do, so I’m going to listen.”

  Levi smiled. “You always did.”

  “I’d just like to hold onto you tonight if that’s all right.”

  Everything inside Levi constricted. He felt a burst, then a wash of warmth crawl over his lonesome skin. His body ached for touches and the promised embrace of strong, safe limbs wrapping him up. “It’s all right,” he whispered, voice quavering as he attempted to right it.

  “Good,” Eren said as he sat forward on his knees and planted his hands on the floor either side of Levi’s hips.

  He was so close.

  Eren’s cheek was warm when Levi reached up and brushed his thumb over it, watching his lips quirk with curiosity. Eren had spent hours asking questions, sometimes a new query on the tip of his tongue before Levi finished answering the last. Levi saw the tears, melancholy smiles, watched as his heart cracked in pieces then wove itself back together. Eren was starved for hugs and kisses. He hadn’t changed in that regard, his craving for contact and reassurance manifest as his lament burned into a need for physical closeness when he was overcome and sorrowed.

  “I want to kiss you like I do in my dreams.” Eren inclined his head and nudged his nose against Levi’s. “I want to know what it feels like too. Please.”

  Tilting his head, Levi moved his thumb over Eren’s cheek a second time, then watched his eyelashes flutter before the lids blanketed expressive green eyes.

  A tingle in Levi’s chest came with the first touch of Eren’s mouth against his. Feather-light, almost not there. His eyes drifted closed as he slid his arms around Eren’s waist, feeling the heat of his body against his hands through thick winter layers. It was testing and sedate with each pass of his lips, a raspy hum growing in Levi’s chest when Eren’s mouth parted against his and his tongue dipped inside.

  Levi wrapped his fingers around Eren’s suspenders and hung on, his hyper-sensitive body going weak as the tender caresses against his lips grew wetter and quietly feverish. His senses were roused, surrounded by Eren. Everything was Eren. He was all Levi could feel, smell, and taste. Solid arms holding him, the scent and flavor of chocolate mixing with something Levi could only describe as male, winter breeze, and longing.

  Feeling Eren’s thumbs skim up the sides of his neck, goosebumps rose on Levi’s skin. His blood thrummed in his ears, the leather in his hands biting into his palms when a soft cry caught in Eren’s throat and he breathed a sigh into his mouth.

   It was reacquainting and warm, yet it sent a wicked heat to Levi’s gut, surging with a buzz down the backs of his legs and straight to the bottoms of his feet. He took Eren’s bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled; smooth and careful before he soothed the nips with unhurried strokes of his tongue.

  The yearning ebbed away in quiet waves when Eren’s fingers tenderly glided up into his hair. Reverent and kind before they tugged and scratched down soft stubble then cradled the back of his neck. Eren’s lips were still on his, his tongue chasing his own into his mouth, though he slowed as Levi’s heart drummed harder, beckoning him down into his warmth like the slowing of a rainstorm with one last press of his lips.

  The panting breaths reaching Levi’s ears were his own, though he heard Eren’s slowing and deepening as he pressed his face into the crook of his neck.

  “It feels new,” Eren murmured against Levi’s skin.

  If Levi hadn’t been leaning against the bottom of the couch, he would have melted onto the floor. His body was a mix of tension and ease, mind a jumble of feelings bashing against his walls trying to escape. He could feel the ghost of Eren’s lips on his, and he feared any touch of his hand would send him jerking toward the ceiling.

  He pried his fingers from the suspenders they were still wrapped around and stroked his hand up Eren’s back. Guiding them both back down, grounding them, pulling Eren closer as he curled against his chest. They were quiet, and Levi trained his ears on his watch muffled in his wool pocket between them as the pace of his heart fell in time with its tick. Next, concentrating on Eren’s breath warm against his skin, and the silky locks of hair draped between his fingers.

  “That made me sleepy.” It was a mumble under Levi’s ear, followed by a yawn and a breathy laugh.

  “It’s late.” He didn’t know if Eren had all his same tendencies as before, but Levi braced himself for the argument. Sometimes it came when Eren was determined, his mind too consumed. Though other times, Levi could coax him into bed or convince him to relax for the night. He flicked his eyes toward the clock hanging on the wall. It was near three in the morning. Levi was used to functioning on little sleep, his insomnia a persistent fixture throughout his lives, though the notion of slumber tugged at his eyelids and limbs.

  Perhaps it was knowing he would lay his head beside Eren’s, or maybe his mind was finally exhausted. Whatever it was, he longed for rest. It had been so long since he felt pleasantly tired, wrapped in the hushed embrace of drowsiness.

  He pressed his lips into Eren’s hair when he felt him nuzzle closer, and cling after a second yawn. “Don’t fall asleep yet.”

  “M’not…” Voice thick with sleepiness, Eren pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes then blinked at Levi.

  After taking a quick survey of the room, Levi found the strength to stand on wobbly legs, shivering in the absence of Eren’s warmth before he retrieved the tray. The drawings could stay as they were, it was likely Eren would pull them all out the next day, and Levi didn’t want to interfere with the piles he’d made or the timeline of sorts he created across the carpet.

  Despite Levi’s gentle insistence that he would wash the dirtied china himself, they ended up arm to arm in the kitchen. Eren stretching and cracking his neck before he was taking the rinsed dishes and drying them then tending the dying fire in the stove as Levi put everything away.

  “We’ll grab a couple logs,” Levi said. “It’s probably cold.”

 

*****

  

  When they crossed the threshold into the bedroom, it was like stepping into the past. The comforting familiarity of a long since forgotten routine descending as they went to work on the hearth. Eren grabbed the small broom and diligently swept ashes into the shovel while Levi worked the bellow, humming when welcoming heat danced against them. They continued to labor in silence, Eren skittering around as he rid the floor of the last bits of dust while Levi scooted from one side to the other to keep out of his way as he gave the coals one last turn.

  “Here.” Levi felt the familiar warmth of Eren’s fingers as he passed him the poker.

  Levi looked at their hands, then back up. “Thanks,” he said, and made one final adjustment to the burning logs.

  “I knew that’s what you wanted.” Eren smiled as he straightened, dropping his suspenders down his arms before he began to unbutton his shirt.

  Levi set the tool aside and rose in front of Eren, sucking in a quick breath as he met his gaze and began to unroll his sleeves.  

  They watched each other as they undressed, shaky fingers unfastening shirts and pants while eyes darted up to look through the fog of tentative anticipation twisting in the short distance separating them. It was like starvation, or thirst, which could only be quenched with a scalding cup of too hot drink set down as an offer between them.

  Levi caught the way Eren’s eyes roamed over him as he folded his clothes, standing only in his flannel drawers. Despite the chilly air circling his exposed ankles and calves, he left his nightshirt to remain inside his dresser. If Eren were as warm as he always was, he wouldn’t need it.

  When Levi was finished, Eren was standing at his side of the bed in his union suit, biting his lip, one arm wrapped around his middle while he turned his pocket watch over in his right hand. “I put my clothes on the bureau. That’s what we used to do?”

  “Yeah,” Levi said. His lungs burned. Someone reached inside and was squeezing them as he moved to the bed and struggled to pull down the edge of the quilt. It wasn’t hungry or needy, no sparks were zinging down between his legs, though his heart pounded over the prospect of getting into bed. He gripped the blanket tight and relaxed his shoulders, sending all of his tension into that hand as he finished turning down the sheets. He was accustomed to sleeping alone, to looking over on Eren’s side when he woke during the night only to glance at empty space.

  He didn’t tell Eren where to go once he was done. He sat down on the left side and placed the handkerchief on the bedside table, then his watch and the key to his basement on top of it. He seemed lost, and though his back was to Levi, he could tell Eren was wringing his hands by the way his elbows jerked.

  Strain leaked from Levi’s muscles as he crawled onto the mattress to rescue Eren from his own trepidation, moving behind him and stretching his hand out to his shoulder.

  Eren fell against his chest, whispering, “I’m glad I’m not crazy,” as Levi shuffled them back and pulled Eren down with him.

  “You’re not.” Levi turned out the lamp and tucked the blanket around them until only their heads were peeking out. He looked at Eren, found his fingers under the covers where he knew they would be, and entwined them with his own. Eren’s eyes were glinting in the moonlight pouring through the window, green which was amorous earlier shined with diffidence, so full Levi wasn’t sure if he was afraid to blink.

  “I’ve got you,” Levi breathed, pressing his toes under Eren’s legs and slipping his arm around his waist.

  Eren hissed then smiled as he touched Levi’s cheek. “I remember that.”

  “You’re still a furnace,” said Levi, “and my toes are as cold as they always were.”

  He could feel Eren unwinding, his hips and shoulders sinking into the soft fluff of the bed, an airy groan pushing past his lips when Levi began rubbing his back. His fingers gliding across soft, well-worn cotton, drawing figure-eights around the bumps of his spine while Eren made quiet little sounds.

  At a whimper, Levi’s hand stilled. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, please don’t stop.” Eren wiggled closer and ran his thumb over Levi’s chin. “It’s just…this is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid in.”

  Levi pressed his face into Eren’s chest and laughed softly before he looked up and met his eyes. He did as asked, painting circles from Eren’s shoulder blades to his waist, watching him dissolve under his touch, his eyes slipping shut, lips parted, letting out slow deep breaths.

  He looked like he was almost asleep, and Levi was sure he was until his eyes opened, sparkling and searching as he tilted his face closer and reached for Levi’s neck. His fingertips rested behind Levi’s ear before he scratched lightly and Levi had to bite his lip.

  “Brat,” he breathed.

  Narrowing his eyes and smiling, Eren whispered, “I remember that spot.” His hand trailed down further, tracing Levi’s collarbone, pausing to dip in the hollow below his shoulder.

  The sensation didn’t find its way into his groin the way it would have before. Instead, it filled up Levi’s chest, and he had to swallow around the constricting heat in his throat. It was strange, having never been touched like this before, yet having been. His mind grasped the memories and experiences of the past, but his skin was unfamiliar with the feeling. He felt foggy, his fingers fighting to maintain their dexterity as they found the back of Eren’s neck.

  The left side of Levi’s lips quirked as he drew light trails over Eren’s nape, pausing when his breath caught before he continued down the side of his neck, stopping at the patch of skin at the top of his chest he could see between the undone top buttons of his union suit.

  Eren moved closer still, tugging with a calloused hand on Levi’s shoulder as he pressed his lips against his forehead, fitting his chin under the ridge of his brow like he used to. “Was the back of my neck always like that?”

  “Mhm.” Levi closed his eyes feeling a huff of breath over the top of his hair, the enfolding warmth of intimacy, and Eren’s legs inching closer to tangle with his own.

  “I just wanted to tell you something,” Eren murmured against Levi’s skin.

  He squeezed Eren tighter. “Hm?”

  Other than a deep breath and fingers twitching into his back, Levi wasn’t given an answer. Typical Eren, he thought as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. He adjusted his arms, squirmed down until he could lay his head against his chest, and let the lullaby of Eren’s heartbeat ease him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is both adored and greatly appreciated. <3 <3 <3


	12. Chapter 12

  In the murky realm between waking and sleep, Levi hovered. Intense warmth was around him, tangling over his limbs, pulling him closer to a persistent thump beating against his chest. He shifted his shoulders, pressed his cheek closer to something firm, yet soft, feeling a light glide across his lower back. Inhaling deep, he smiled. Eren.

  When he pulled his head back, Eren was watching him. His hair was mussed, disordered locks hanging in his face. Beyond the silky stands, Levi could see green eyes glinting. They were half-lidded from sleep but still sparkling, and awake.

  “Morning,” Eren whispered. His voice was low, still rough from sleep.

  “Hi.” Levi stretched his fingers where they had been grasping the fabric stretched over Eren’s hip.

  “Sleep well?”

  Levi nodded once. “Yes.” The room was far brighter than when he usually awakened. “Been up long?” he asked.

  Eren shrugged as best he could, snuggled up as they were. “Less than half an hour, I think.”

  “You could’ve woken me.”

  “I was watching you sleep.”

  It didn’t often happen in the past --as Levi was a habitual early riser-- though when Eren had had the chance, he’d seldom given up the opportunity to lay quietly and take in Levi’s sleeping form and face. Levi would wake up to Eren the same as he had moments before, the same dimple pressed into his cheek, lips tipped up at the corners.

  A lump was forming in the back of Levi’s throat, his windpipe constricting hotly with the sentiment of it.

  “You looked peaceful,” Eren said.

  Levi tried to smile, focusing on the buttons near the top of Eren’s union suit. Eren was holding him in his long arms, enfolding him. Secure, yet painfully tender. It felt how it always had.

  There was a solid flip in Levi’s chest as a shiver ran up his back. He knew Eren was there, had been beside him in bed when they fell asleep, his soft breaths stirring the hair atop his head. He was real, substantial, and wrapped tightly around him. Still, to open his eyes and know it wasn’t a dream, that he had opened the studio, told Eren what he could, and he wasn’t a figment of his imagination left his blood rushing with such force he could hear it.

  “Levi…” Eren said. “Okay?”

  Countless memories were in Levi’s mind, flashes of Eren regarding him as he was then, like a deck of cards shuffling over his eyes. Eren now, Eren in all the ‘thens,’ and ‘befores.’

  He swallowed hard, Eren was staring at him, looking into him, his brow furrowing in a concerned frown. “Yes,” Levi said.

  Eren smiled, though he didn’t look convinced. He reached out with careful curiosity until his fingertips met Levi’s nape, ducking his head down and poking his nose against Levi’s. “Sure?”

  He wasn’t sure. Too often he dreamed of Eren as he was now, visions of falling into slumber and awakening. The early rays of the sun flitting over Eren’s face, along his broad shoulders, dancing across his hair, the waves and crimps in his long locks sparkling far too prettily for bed-head. He stared, unblinking, until his eyes burnt, holding in quickening breaths so Eren wouldn’t notice. What if Eren disappeared?

  Fingers tapped lightly on his shoulder. Questioning, worried, hesitant.

 “You’re here,” Levi finally murmured, almost too quiet for his own ears to pick up.

  Eren’s smile was so genuine it ached. “Yeah, I am,” he said, his voice dropping to an uncertain timbre when he continued. “This must be weird for you.”

  Levi nodded, going stiff, using all his strength to resist burying his face in Eren’s chest to hide. He could feel his eyes wetting at the corners, words churning, building momentum as they conspired to leave his tongue.

  In the past, he could keep it all to himself. His elation and fears as Eren slid in, and he held his secret to himself. He’d forced himself to hold back, building a shield out of necessity, but this time Eren had already found a way through it. He made a home inside where he held Levi, smiling like the sun while he traced the edges of his heart with kind, gentle fingers.

  “Does this hurt too?” Eren asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Not hurt.” There was no lie in his confession, though Levi failed to elaborate. There was a sting in his muscles which mirrored the one in his eyes. The urge to crush Eren to him and shed tears until he soaked the fabric between his face and Eren’s chest. If only he yielded, a rush of relief would take the tension’s place as the knot in his gut which had compressed and twisted for near two decades unfurled. Still, he made no move to do so.

  Eren prodded with a tenderness that made Levi's heart clench. “Too much at once,” Eren said, squeezing his arms around Levi and pressing the point of his chin against his forehead.

  Levi managed, “Mhm,” clamped his eyes shut, and pulled in Eren’s scent through his nose in a drawn-out, deep breath.

  “I’ve got you.” Words Levi had uttered to Eren the previous night returned to him. Murmured against the slumber-damp fringe clinging to Levi’s forehead.

  Eren’s presence and the silence were enough. He didn’t push, didn’t ask for an explanation as he scratched at the hair above Levi’s ear and gently kneaded his fingers between the dimples in Levi’s back.

  Levi could feel his body pulled closer to Eren’s at the interval of each exhale, the expansion of his lungs growing less frantic little by little while his heart rate slowed.

  Whether Eren sensed the calm growing within Levi or took his evening breaths as a hint, he loosened his hold, brushing his lips against his forehead, then his temple. He skimmed them over Levi’s cheek where his eyelashes fluttered against them, then pressed them to the corner of Levi’s mouth. Soft, gingerly, and without haste. Neither hesitant nor insistent with his kisses.

  Levi released Eren’s pajamas where they’d bunched in his fist. He should have been embarrassed. He had been about to cry. He was so off-guard, focusing all his energy and concerns toward Eren. Abandoning attention to himself while swept up in Eren’s presence, his reactions to the studio, then tending to him in the aftermath. What would happen come morning had escaped him. When he would awaken to adoring caresses against his skin and the familiar expression of blinding reverence on Eren’s face. His devoted smile, and a euphonious voice as he whispered honeyed morning endearments into his skin.  

  “Better?” Eren asked.

  “Better,” Levi answered, pensive.

  “Do you…” Eren breathed, placing his hand over the center of Levi’s chest. “Do you have dreams too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you have a bad one?”

  “No.” Levi hesitated and wet his lips. “You’re never here when I wake up.”

  Levi watched Eren’s eyes close slowly as he pulled his head back. Then he sighed, pulling his cheek in as he chewed on it. “I didn’t realize,” Eren said.

  “How would you?” Levi asked.

  “I don’t know, but I should have.”

  “You’re not a mind reader.”

  “I know, but…” Eren’s lips turned down. “I didn’t think about you.”

  Levi smoothed Eren’s frown with his fingertips. “Last night was overwhelming.”

  “It was, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Levi said, trapping Eren’s gaze with his own. “I mean it.”

  Eren conceded. “All right.”

  “Good.” Levi pressed his lips to the edge of Eren’s jaw. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he mumbled, Eren’s morning stubble scratching against his lips.

  “Can I have a kiss?” Eren asked. “Just a little one.”

  Levi lifted a brow. “You don’t have to ask,” he said, pressing his lips to Eren’s. It wasn’t needy or abrupt, lingering for a few extra ticks of Eren’s pocket watch on the bedside table.

  When they drew back, Eren found Levi’s hand under the blankets and wove their fingers together. They stayed like that long enough for both of them to nearly fall back to sleep, tangled together, inhaling the musky scent of sleep-warmed skin, before Levi caught himself on the edge of dozing, and craned his neck to look toward the window.

  “We should get up,” he said, slipping his arm behind his head. “It has to be after eight.”

  Eren stretched to retrieve his watch and snapped it open. “Eight-twenty-three.”

  “That late?” Levi asked. It had been years since he slept past six.

  “Mhm.” Eren sat up and looked around, fisting the blanket and pulling it close to his chest. “Should I go?”

  “No,” Levi said. “Unless you want to.”

  “I don’t,” said Eren, “but I thought we could go to the museum today if you didn’t mind.”

  Levi hadn’t been there during his current lifetime. He found it rather dull, many of the displays from the Titan Wars laughable, inaccurate. But he had his memories, and Eren did not. It wasn’t a surprise he wanted to explore it, see the artifacts from one of his lives before, perhaps read the inscriptions before the statues which stood inside the entrance to the building.

  “We can,” Levi said, though he continued with a warning. “Like the book, not everything there is accurate.”

  “But there are things left over from the war, right?” Eren asked. “Equipment and uniforms. Things like that?”

  “Yes,” Levi replied. “Statues too. Though they hardly look like either of us.”

  Eren squeezed his hand. “That’s probably good.”

  “Maybe not,” Levi said. “You’ll see.”

  Eren sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. “I should run home and clean up.”

  There was a chill already creeping under the blankets without Eren’s body pressed up beside him. “Breakfast when you get back?” Levi asked.

  “Yeah.” Eren smiled. “I’ll be fast.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Levi’s lips and left the bed to dress.

  It made sense Eren would want to go home and change into fresh clothes, but Levi felt uneasiness as he swung his legs over the bed and stretched them toward the cold wooden floor. Fear creeping in along with bitter unease Eren wouldn’t return. It was irrational. If Eren had wanted to leave, he would have done so the previous night. He wouldn’t have stayed and kissed Levi and slept in his bed. Still, Levi had to shake his head to discard the thoughts as he pulled on his bathrobe and left the warmth of his bed to see Eren out.

 

*****

 

  Once he was showered and dressed, Levi ambled back to his bedroom to fix his bed and retrieve his watch. He had left it on his bureau the night before, so captivated with Eren he hadn’t placed it in its usual spot for the night. Reaching for it, he drew back when something caught his eye. Eren had left his suspenders draped over the knob of a drawer. They hung there, blending with the stain of the wood, the tarnished metal of their hardware glinting in the morning light. The corners of Levi’s mouth curved as he brushed the tips of his fingers over his palm, recalling the edges of the durable leather biting into his hands when they kissed. How he couldn’t let go, lest he fly away.

  He already missed Eren’s energy. His absence left the flat hollow and too silent once again as he went to make his bed. His fingers twitched when he grasped the edge of the blanket to remove it. Sunday’s were when he washed laundry, though as he pulled the sheets back, Eren’s scent wafted to his nose, and he faltered, clasping the linens in his hands. He stood motionless, debating a for a few moments, his eyes traveling over the wrinkled fabric before they flicked up to Eren’s empty bedside table. Levi’s breath caught in his chest. Eren had taken the handkerchief.

  Levi was barely recovered from the revelation before he heard the echo of a knock at the back door of the shop. It was faster than expected, but he abandoned his chore, striding on eager steps to his living room window while his heart fluttered in his chest.

  When he looked down below, his smile slipped to a glower.

  On the sidewalk stood a short woman in a long blue dress, grey hair lifting in the frosty breeze. She had something in her hands. Levi rolled his eyes. Dahlia.

  He left the apartment, his hands clenched at his sides as he trudged down the stairs. No one bothered him on Sunday mornings this early. Least of all Dahlia. She preferred to come calling closer to when Levi opened, and most often on weekdays when he wasn’t busy yet and had more time for talk. He paused for a moment as he grasped the doorknob, swiping his free hand across his forehead.

  Wrenching the door open, he mustered a “Good morning.”

  “Levi,” she said, inclining her head.

  “This is unexpected.”

  “I saw you and Eren arrived home late last night.” She thrust a basket toward him and winked. “I thought you both could do with some breakfast.”

  Levi pulled back the cloth covering, glaring down at what Dahlia could only have intended as a gift of celebratory, post-coital blueberry muffins. Despite his annoyance, his mouth watered at the aroma. “Is there anything that doesn’t escape your notice?” he asked as she shoved the offering into his hands.

  “No.” She stepped past the threshold and peeked into the shop. “Where’s Eren?”

  “He’ll be along soon,” Levi said, closing the door and turning the lock. “Tea?”

  “Yes, that would be lovely.”

  “Gunpowder again?”

  Dahlia loosened her scarf and unbuttoned her coat. “It’s too early for a brew so strong.”

  “Jasmine, then?”

  “That’ll do fine.” She swept onto the main floor of the shop, eyes locked on the same seat in the sitting area she always took.

  Brewing tea was as trying as it had been the day before when he had made her a pot. Though it would be impolite not offer it, and blocking her entry wouldn’t have gotten her out of his hair any sooner. He could see it now as he went through the motions of preparing the infusion; she would loiter at the doorway, letting in the cold while she pestered him, prattling endlessly as she poked him for details. At least Eren had departed for the moment. It would give Levi time to make it clear he wouldn’t abide the line of questioning which would no doubt follow after he returned.

  Dahlia had already settled when Levi joined her, the wool coat she had been wearing was slung over the arm of the leather chair she primly sat in. “That was quick,” she said as Levi placed the tea and muffins on the table and sat down.

  She leaned forward, grasping a cube of sugar with dainty tongs, and dropped it into her empty cup. “You two had a late date last evening.”

  “We went for a stroll.”

  “So late at night,” she said. “Anywhere interesting?”

  “We were out robbing houses.”

  Dahlia waved him off. “I’m sure it was something more romantic than that.”

  “Tell me,” Levi said as he poured a serving for each of them, “how is it you were fortuitous enough to notice us at such a late hour?”

  Dahlia nodded her thanks and snatched her teacup from the tray. “I bake bread on Saturday nights,” she explained, blowing away the steam as she brought it toward her mouth. “Sunday morning is the busiest for fresh loaves.”

  “Interesting,” Levi said. “And you were able to pull yourself away this morning?”

  “I left my nieces to mind the shop.” She took a sip. “I opened the store at six, I deserve a break.”

  “So this is where you thought to come for your break?”

  Dahlia leaned back, eyes glinting with mirth. “I wanted to be sure you were both well fed this morning. The two of you must be exhausted.”

  “I’m not unappreciative,” Levi said, circumspect. He clamped his lips together and leaned against the arm of his chair, choosing his words carefully. “But sometimes it’s better not to make assumptions.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry,” she said, her hand flying toward her mouth. “I thought perhaps something good had happened.” She shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. “I saw you holding hands again. I merely guessed you and Eren were officially an item now.”

  “Your assessment wouldn’t be incorrect.” He fixed her with a mild glare.

  She smiled. “Oh good,” she said, blanching, “but nothing happened?”

  “Dahlia...” Levi warned.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I forget my manners.”

  “A nasty habit.” Levi sipped his tea, irritated.

  “You are both gentlemen, after all,” Dahlia offered. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  “I don’t wish to advertise our affairs to the gossip mill.”

  “Understandable.” She nodded, tapping her finger against her cup. “You have my apologies. It’s only,” she began, “that I’d like to see you and Eren happy.”

  “You needn’t worry.”

  “Did Eren at least enjoy the cake?” she asked.

  “He did.” Levi offered a small smile.

  “So-” she said, cut off when there was a knock at the back door. “Eren?” she asked.

  “I would imagine.” Levi stood. He didn’t know if he was relieved or not as he crossed the store toward the door. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t niggle Eren for details. Though Eren seemed fond of Dahlia. Perhaps she had never been as nosey with him as she most often was with others.

  When he unlocked the door, Eren was there, smiling, dressed once more in what Levi assumed were his nicest pair of pants, and his beat-up homburg topped with a dusting of fine snow. His pocket watch and the chain both appeared freshly polished, his boots cleaner. The button down he wore under his vest was crisply pressed and tucked into his trousers. Somehow his smile was brighter than it had been when he had left.

  “Hi,” Eren said, lifting a hand from where he had held it, clasped in the other at his waist. He spared no time before he leaned down, skimming his fingers up and around the back of Levi’s neck, scratching over his undercut, drawing him closer until their lips met.

  Levi allowed it, relished it, breathed a sigh into Eren’s mouth as their tongues flicked together. He choked back his want, pressing his palms to Eren’s chest, as he attempted to pull away. “Dahlia’s here,” he mumbled against Eren’s lips when he tried to chase his mouth back.

  “Oh...” Eren smirked as he straightened, his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushing crimson. “She’s not busy selling bread? It’s Sunday.”

  Levi rubbed the back of his neck. “She brought us a gift…of breakfast.”

  “‘Us?’ ‘Breakfast?’” Eren asked. “Why? How did she…”

  “She saw us return together last night.”

  “I swear she has spies too.” Eren slid his hand down his face. “She knows everything that goes on around here.”

  Levi nodded. “She makes it her business to know everything.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Eren said, stepping inside. “What did she bring for breakfast?”

  Levi sighed. “Blueberry muffins.”

  “Delicious!” Eren rubbed his hands together and walked out of the back room. Levi followed behind.

  “Eren, so good to see you,” Dahlia said.

  Her voice was dripping with honey, and Levi clenched his jaw.

  “Good morning,” Eren replied. He took off his hat and jacket, then swiped a muffin and took his seat next to Levi. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “I thought you two may be tired.” Her eyes flicked between them over the rim of her cup.

  Levi crossed his legs in his seat, retrieving his tea and a muffin. He leaned back and tensed his fingers on the edge, observing while he picked at a blueberry.

  Eren was still red, growing redder. He took a bite, looked at Levi and stuck his hair behind his ear. “I’m a little sleepy,” he admitted with his mouth half full and swallowed.

  “What plans do you two have for today?” she asked, raising a thin grey brow.

  “Um…” Eren started, glancing at Levi. “The museum I think?”

  “How lovely,” Dahlia said. “You haven’t seen it yet?”

  “No.” Eren shook his head and looked down.

  “Going to have a look at the statues of yourselves?”

  Levi’s eyes widened as Eren choked on his breakfast and began coughing.

  “Well, not yourselves, of course,” Dahlia corrected. Looking up she added, “It’s so intriguing though, isn’t it? You’re both named after two very famous soldiers. Heroes, to be correct. Two heroes.” She paused for a moment, eyeing them both. “Did you know some of the books say Levi and Eren were lovers.”

  Eren covered his mouth with the back of his hand and coughed again.

  “I’m aware,” Levi said, looking at Eren, his eyes softening as he inclined his head. “I do own a bookshop.”

  “Yes, right,” Dahlia said. “It is romantic though...those old tales.”

  Eren looked at Levi and drained half of his tea.

  “I suppose,” Levi said, scratching the edge of his jaw.

  “Very steamy, those books,” Dahlia said with a prurient smirk.

  “What?” Eren asked, mouth agape.

  Levi shook his head. He should have taken the breakfast and sent Dahlia on her way.

  Dahlia shifted in her chair, looking at Eren. “They are stories from the war, but with a romantic twist.”

  “Terribly written,” Levi added, pushing crumbs around on his plate.

  “Those would be Barney’s books,” Dahlia admonished. “He’s not one for realism.”

  Levi noticed Eren watching the exchange, a mix of horror and interest in his expression. His free hand was on his leg, fingertips pressing into his knee while he fidgeted. “Perhaps we should change the subject,” Levi said, his eyes hardening.

  Eren took another muffin. “This is just weird,” he grumbled before ripping off a piece and sticking it in his mouth.

  “Books aside,” Dahlia said, “I’m glad to see things are coming together for you two. Barney will be happy as well.”

  “Already planning to gossip,” Levi said.

  Eren laughed. “Dahlia is always gossiping to Barney.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do, too,” Eren said. “Almost every time I stop by you tell me about it.”

  Levi smiled behind his cup.

  “That’s not true, Eren.” Dahlia primped the right side of her hair.

  Eren rolled his eyes. “You two should go on a date.”

  Levi snorted, watching as Dahlia straightened her back. She looked to Levi for help, her brows rising above pleading eyes.

  “Eren has a point,” Levi said.

  “We’re very old friends,” she argued. “Nothing more.”

  “There’s a lot more.” Eren leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles. “I can tell,” he added.

  Levi wasn’t sure if he wanted the conversation to continue or not. It was amusing watching Dahlia squirm in her seat, a dusty hint of rose painting her cheeks. It made her appear younger. She looked as if she was trying not to smile, but there was a twitch at the edges of her mouth before she dabbed them with a napkin, then carefully folded it on her lap. It was subtle, but the thoughtful deflection reminded Levi of Eren the previous night with the handkerchief.

  “I think it’s time I stop intruding on your morning,” Dahlia finally said, finishing the last of her tea. Looking down at the china still clasped in her hand, she brushed a finger over the filigree decorating the side of the cup. “We’ll be hitting peak hour at the bakery soon, and we’re already short on staff. I best be getting back.”

  “Thanks for the muffins,” Eren said standing. He picked up her coat and held it out for her.

  Levi noted she was still blushing when he stood. He was sure they all were, Eren’s ears had ebbed from a blistering shade of red to a tone which reminded him of petals from the pink cosmos that sprang from the back garden in June, though he could tell blood was still coursing through them. He cleared his throat, attempting to disrupt the awkward fog which clung to them.

  After Dahlia slipped her arms through her sleeves, she turned and smiled, winding her scarf around her neck. She patted Eren on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said. Reaching for Levi’s hand, she added, “For the tea too. It was delightful.”

  “You’re always welcome.” Levi wanted to swallow the words, but there was truth to them. Dahlia was nosey, often relentless, and trying, but there was a charm to her like all those people in the town he had come to know over the years. Their interactions, though bothersome at times, had pulled Levi through the most desolate and isolated time in this life. He wouldn’t begrudge them now that Eren had returned to him again, irritating as they could be.

  After they walked her to the door and bid Dahlia farewell, Eren leaned against the frame and sighed while Levi set the tea service in the back room to be washed.

  “She had me scared for a moment,” Eren admitted, shoulders sinking down as he deflated.

  “No one else knows,” Levi said as he drew water.

  “But there’s books about us?” Eren asked and began rolling up his sleeves.

  “Many.” Levi wet the dishrag under the faucet, his lip quirking when he glanced at Eren. “The books you bought from me are loosely based on the Titan War…and us.”

  “I knew it,” Eren said. He smiled at Levi before his brows descended. “They didn’t have any sex in them though.”

  “No.” Levi laughed. “I wasn’t lying when I said those other books were terribly written.”

  “You’ve read them?”

  “Skimmed them, but-” Levi was cut off when a loud thud resounded from the back door.

  “Fuck!” Eren jumped with a start.

  Levi flinched and turned off the water, determined to investigate.

  “I’ll go look,” Eren said, halting Levi with a hand on his shoulder. “Your hands are all soapy.”

  Taking up the rag, Levi relented and began scrubbing again. He peered at Eren as he opened the door and peeked his head out, then disappeared outside. It wasn’t unusual for strange noises and bumps to come from the alleyway, especially on busy Sunday mornings. His shop was located on a bustling corner of the shopping district. On more than one occasion, he’d been disturbed in the early hours of the morning by someone attempting to make a time-sensitive delivery such as freshly butchered meats for one of the local restaurants. Most often, he was curt when he’d been forced downstairs. He usually threw the door open, then pointed to the sign above the door indicating the entrance was private, that it was a bookshop, and to move along to the front. This was likely no different than any other rude interruption he had suffered previously. If Eren even found the culprit, it would be a surprise.

  When Levi was drying the last cup, Eren returned wheezing, a grin on his face, waving a newspaper in his hand. He bit his bottom lip and snorted in a fruitless attempt to stop, then pulled in a deep breath.

  “It was the newsboy,” Eren said.

  “Brat…” Levi dried his hands before he snatched the paper from Eren and examined it with a lifted brow. “It’s all wet.”

  “Yeah,” Eren said, releasing a breath. “He must have hit the door with it. It was laying in a puddle when I went out there.”

  “He has an aversion to delivering it properly,” Levi explained. “I’m lucky to get it four days out of the week.”

  “He’s got a filthy mouth for a kid so young too.”

  Levi’s eyes narrowed. “You talked to him?”

  “I caught him ‘round the corner.” Eren ran the back of his hand across his brow and dropped his gaze. “But he came at me and kicked me in the shin when I called him back.”

  Levi eyed a muddy scuff on Eren’s pants. “That little shit.”

  “It didn’t hurt.” Eren shrugged. “But I grabbed him by the collar and told him he should have more respect for people’s doors.”

  “I’m surprised the little thug didn’t try and cut you.”

  Eren laughed, shaking his head. “No, just stomped on my foot, then threw a string of curses at me. ”

  “Perhaps I should unsubscribe,” Levi said.

  “I let him go.” Eren brushed his palms together. “I was a little shit too when I was that age.”

  Levi jerked his head up and smirked. Eren still was a little shit when he wanted to be. Eating all the cookies, asking Levi questions which made his heart pound, forcing his way into Levi’s arms with a grin on his face knowing nothing could stop him. Levi wouldn’t have him any other way. “Did you throw papers at merchant’s doors?” he asked.

  “Not that, but I got into a lot of fights.”

  “Fighting is a common theme throughout all of your lives.” Levi unfolded the sopping newspaper and set it on the counter, smoothing it out.

  “It is?”

  “Some more than others.” He flicked his eyes up at Eren, watching the wheels turn behind them. “During The Catalyst, you were still getting in brawls when you were a teenager.” He could still feel Eren squirming in his hands when he’d dragged him away from fist fights in the mess hall.

  “Wow, sorry.” Eren frowned. “That’s not very mature.” His voice was soft, but there was a hint of sadness or perhaps disappointment.

  “It wasn’t an easy life,” Levi explained, reaching out for Eren’s hand. He eyed his thumb rubbing circles on Eren’s broad palm before he met his eyes. “You were angry. Hurting a lot of the time.”

  Looking up Eren released a sharp breath. His eyes were narrowing, blazing green framed by thick, dark lashes. He appeared to be searching, digging, then a flash of recognition before his gaze met Levi’s. Eren wet his lips. “Most of my memories are only of you,” he said. “But I feel like I was a storm and you were the only one who could make me stop blowing around.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Almost all the time,” Eren said with a resolute nod of his head. “I’m not sure how I know that, but I do.” He took a step closer, pulling Levi’s arms around him, molding them against each other. “That’s why you would let me count your scars. So I could sleep.”

  Levi took a deep breath where his face was buried. Soap, wool, and Eren’s warmth filling his nose. He never told him how much he needed it too. How the trace of Eren’s fingertips down the jagged scar on his back demolished his worries. It was a balm for the acute wound inside his chest, dismantling each layer of his defenses with every tap to the mars on his hands as Eren counted. Tea and the sugar of buttery biscuits puffing against his forehead before Eren would kiss him there. Then his temples and cheeks and jaw before he’d find his lips. Countless nights Levi wouldn’t have partaken in sleep without it, but Eren’s gentle hands and reverent whispers had pulled him down until he found slumber in his embrace.

  “Not only for you,” Levi admitted, murmuring into Eren’s chest.

  Eren huffed against the top of Levi’s head, stirring his hair. “It was good for you too.”

  Levi nodded when Eren held him tighter.

  “Do you still want to go?” Eren asked. His voice was gentle, low, rumbling through his chest against Levi’s cheek.

  “Yes,” Levi breathed. He didn’t let Eren go right away. He could hold him for a few more breaths.

  

*****

   

  They wove their way through cobbled streets, avoiding ice sheets and meandering past swarms of busy shoppers and sightseers. Eren didn’t take Levi’s hand, though their arms and knuckles brushed often. Levi wondered if it was a memory or an inkling lost to his other lives which Eren sensed. He didn’t seem put-off, looking down to Levi at a near constant with delving, fond looks, and knowing smiles. As if secrets danced behind his curling lips. A hushed whisper, _‘You don’t like holding hands in front of everyone.’_

  Levi found himself not caring at the moment. He clasped his hand around Eren’s as they arrived at the steps of the museum, one side of his mouth twitching when Eren nudged his shoulder with his upper arm and smiled at him.

  They surveyed the outside. For Levi, it was similar to standing there over one hundred years before. His feet planted in the same place they had been when he stood in quiet contemplation the night he went there to steal back their 3DMG. The stone steps were unchanged, only stained darker by minerals and time, flanked by two massive brick walls. Double doors were situated at the top of the stairs. Tall, imposing, at least twice Levi’s height, constructed of thick wooden planks, and hinged with iron.  

  Eren tightened his hand around Levi’s, raising his head and eyeing the sharp peak of the roof. “It looks like a castle.”

  Levi squeezed back. “It was used by the military during that life. Housing, resupply, meetings.”

  “HQ?” Eren asked.

  “No,” said Levi. “That’s past where Wall Rose used to be. Closer to the old capital.”

  Not unlike their other lives, there were many things Eren was unaware of, though it was different this time. The wisps of memory were rising through the cracks of whatever shell it was which held them inside. It allowed enough to come forward that things had changed. However, Levi’s journals, books, drawings, and recollections were useless for tackling it. There were no answers to be found in them, and for the first time in a long while, he was lost.

  Eren stiffened beside Levi and gulped. “Ready?” he asked.

  Levi hummed and took a step forward, Eren mirroring him as they climbed to the top. People rushed past them. Levi’s footfalls were light, but Eren’s boots thumped heavily on the stairs. His hand was clammy within Levi’s, trembling and buzzing with energy. Eren held on tighter as they halted in front of the door and pulled their entwined hands over his heart.

  Levi could express to Eren he didn’t have to do this, that they didn’t need to go inside, but Eren was ever deaf to such advice. For Levi, the scars had healed long ago, the only wounds he still bore where from enduring his cyclical loss of Eren. It wasn’t the same for Eren though. A lack of memory wouldn’t ease his pain, and not if he learned of all he had done and the decisions he had made.

  He waited for Eren to step forward and seize the door handle. When he did, their hands fell to their respective sides. Levi’s hand felt cold the same way his body had when Eren left the bed in the morning. Though the disquiet which came with it was different than it had been earlier, he couldn’t swallow down his misgivings or the sense of alarm which roiled in his gut. Even the assured look Eren gave him as he tugged the door open wasn’t enough to erase it all.

  When they walked inside, their steps paused as they entered the narthex. Levi stretched his neck, his gaze traveling up. Three banners were hanging from the high ceiling, the Wings of Freedom at the center. They fluttered, disturbed by the invading wind. The walls were smooth, massive stones etched with grandiose carvings of battles long since fought. They framed towering, leaded glass windows of varying shades, reminiscent of those which decorated the Church of the Walls over two centuries before in Stohess District. Levi clasped his hands behind his back, shutting his eyes for a moment. The opulence seemed unfitting for a building dedicated to the history of war. Like a shrine on the cusp of becoming a place of worship.  

  Eren gasped, and Levi turned, watching his lips part as he stared transfixed, his eyes widening.

  “I didn’t remember the emblem like this when I saw it in your drawings, or in the books,” Eren whispered. “But I can see it now. It’s like looking through mist. I can see it on your back. The memory is important.”

  It wasn’t specific enough for Levi to know what it was. Eren would have seen him in his cloak more times than he could ever hope to count. “Anything else you see?”

  “Fog maybe. You’re standing on something big.” Eren pinched the corners of his eyes, his smile fading. “I don’t think I felt good. Really tired...I woke up, and you were there again, but we were somewhere else, and someone was with you.”

  “Hm,” Levi hummed. “You don’t have to press it too hard. It might give you a headache.”

  “Does that happen to you?”

  “Not now.” Levi cast his head down. “It does at first though.”

  They were still for a moment, standing in decorous silence before the relics of a life only they remembered. Levi’s limbs felt heavy, the weight of the past tugging them down. It was only the click of Eren’s shoes which broke the spell and drew his attention. The sound was so small, softened in the vast space of the room. As if the extensiveness of the hall consumed it. Eren was moving forward, his pace tentative, yet sturdy, steadfast. Levi followed, standing beside Eren when he came to a halt in front of the statues and gazed at them in quiet wonder. It was strange now, seeing Eren’s titan rendered in alloy, his expression frozen and menacing.

  “Is that me?” Eren asked.

  “Yes.” Levi pursed his lips. He could feel Eren examining him.

  “You don’t like it.”

  “You don’t look right.” To Levi, Eren always appeared pained more than frightening when he was in his titan.

  “I look scary.”

  “To some, ‘scary’ would be accurate. Others saw hope,” Levi explained. “For me, the problem is the eyes.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” Eren asked.

  “Nothing in them.”

  Eren stared up at the face of his titan statue, silent for a moment before his eyes wandered over its form and settled somewhere in the middle, his expression one of disbelief. “I had no dick?”

  Levi snorted, holding in a snicker. “I forgot to inform you.”

  “Suppose I didn’t need it like that.”

  “No,” Levi said, amused. “It probably would have gotten in the way.”

  Eren extended his arm, pointing to a smaller statue which was mounted from the ceiling. It was cast in the same metal as the others though there was a delicateness to it as it hung in the air, blades held in its grip, a cloak spread behind it. “That’s you?” Eren asked.

  Levi ground his teeth. “Supposedly.”

  “It’s so…”

  “Tiny,” Levi finished. He regarded the willowy frame with disdain. “I look like a scrawny twelve-year-old.”

  “You aren’t so thin in my memories.”

  “I was a bit thicker then than I am now.”

  “Your face is wrong too.”

  “And my head’s too big.”

  “Is this what you warned me about?”

  “Yeah,” Levi said.

  “I like how you’re built in real life,” Eren whispered, sweeping the backs of his fingers over Levi’s hand.

  Levi smirked. “Books are heavy.”

  Eren shook his head, rubbing it with both hands, then looked from his left to his right.

  Not inclined to press him either direction, Levi waited without a word, watching Eren’s head turn back and forth while he worried his lip. If Eren was experiencing recollections or had an inclination to go one way or another, it may be imprudent to interfere.

  “Let’s go this way,” Eren finally said, pointing. He didn’t wait for Levi, but turned on his heel to their left and continued into the next hall with slow, careful strides.

  Levi stayed close to Eren’s side as the two of them emerged in a room with a lower ceiling. Its walls were lined with glass cases filled with old equipment. The air was chilled, though hung heavier with the aroma of age and must. Eren wandered to the corner closest, laying a hand on the thick pane of the display, and looked inside. It was a set of old maneuver gear, a model Levi had never used. Aside from the dents, it appeared to have been well cared for by whoever its owner had been.

  Eren glanced over his shoulder at another patron, then leaned in toward Levi’s ear, and whispered, “This is what we used to fly?”

  “Not this kind exactly,” said Levi, “but close.” He inclined his head toward the next case.

  “I don’t remember,” Eren said. He read the inscription beneath it, his eyes scanning the gear before he touched his brow again. Levi had told him not to push it, though it was clear he had no intention of listening.

  Eren continued to move around the room with Levi a step behind, pausing to scrutinize each display. He carefully read and reread the descriptions beneath every set of gear. Sometimes he asked questions, and Levi would answer. However, other times he seemed content with the information the museum provided and didn’t search for anything deeper.

  “I should have paid better attention in History,” Eren said when they came to a display of anti-personnel gear. The same type Kenny and the MPs had been using when Levi and the others were forced to fight humans rather than titans in their attempt to save Eren. “This one is so different.”

  “It was for killing people,” Levi said, scowling. “Not titans.”

  Eren’s eyes widened as he looked at Levi and back to the gear once more. “The Uprising,” he said. “I remember a little about that.”

  “From school, or your own memory?”

  “From school.” Eren scuffed the tread of his boot against the stone floor and frowned. “The only new things I remember are blurry pictures. I can’t figure out what the hell’s happening in them.”

  “Remember when I told you not to push it too hard?”

  Eren rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, but I want to know what it all is.”

  “Sometimes that makes it worse,” Levi said. “Sometimes you have to let it come on its own.”

  “I’m not patient.”

  Levi rolled his eyes. “No shit.”

  “I’ve never been good at listening, have I?”

  “Hm,” Levi hummed. “Most of the time you listen to me.”

  “But not about everything.”

  “No, not everything,” Levi said. “But you should about this.”

  Eren looked down. “I get flashes, and it’s hard to keep my eyes from focusing farther into them.”

  Levi had similar experiences when he was younger. When the recollections and visions swept him away. The smallest and most inconsequential items or impressions could trigger them. Sometimes it was something more important or related to his past, but often it was something as simple as a scent, the flavor of a meal, or the way leaves were swept up in the breeze. However, there was something different about how they seemed to overwhelm Eren. The way he radiated with what felt like pain. Levi could almost feel him pulsating with it. As if the memories could split his skin if they were able to burst forth. Like there were too many to hold inside.

  The hair on Levi’s neck prickled as he looked up at Eren through his bangs. “It’s just…” Levi started then trailed off. How could he explain something he didn’t understand himself?

  He narrowed his eyes as Eren took a step closer, watching his head swivel taking in the empty room before he pulled Levi in toward his chest and planted his chin atop his head.

  “I’ll try as hard as I can,” Eren whispered, squeezing Levi tightly. He tilted his head, pressing a kiss to Levi’s forehead.

  “I know,” Levi said as Eren released him, catching his eyes.

  They didn’t linger. Instead, they made their way to the next room. One lined with reproductions and meticulously scribed parchments covering the walls. Renderings of various battles, and the histories of commanders for the military. Eren turned sharply before a photograph of a bolder stuffed into a gate.

  “I did that,” Eren said, reaching his hand out, stopping short of touching the picture.

  “Yeah,” said Levi. “That rock’s still there and a piece of the gate.”

  “I don’t remember it, but looking at this gives me a feeling.”

  “What?”

  “Hopelessness…” Eren pursed his lips. “Then relief...but it’s tainted.”

  Levi had neglected to go into detail the night before where some of Eren’s past was concerned. Namely his reactions to most of the battles he fought in that life. Most of the time, they hadn’t been pleasant or comfortable, especially when he was younger and had first discovered his abilities. So often Eren had been reduced to self-loathing, tears, and an overwhelming sense of guilt. There was no way around it. If Eren were going to remember, Levi wouldn’t have the ability to keep it all from him.

  Though the blow might be softened if it came from him. “You were pissed at yourself afterward,” Levi said.

  “Why?”

  “A lot of people died protecting you,” Levi explained. “You didn’t take it well.”

  “Oh,” Eren said, twisting his fingers together.

  “It was never easy for you.”

  Eren was quiet for a moment, looking everywhere but Levi’s face. “I can see why you don’t want me to remember it,” he said in a hushed voice.

  Levi nodded. The horrors of The Catalyst were so unbearable Eren deserved peace in the rest of his lives. Still, it didn’t seem it would be granted this time. Levi crossed his arms and dug his fingers into his biceps, suppressing a shiver. There must be a reason Eren’s memories were focusing in on the madness of that life so keenly. It was true he experienced recollections of some calm and pleasant moments they shared, but most of it was centered around despair and war.

  Eren’s efforts to battle back against whatever he was experiencing was apparent. He shook his head, appearing crestfallen before he lifted his eyes, straightened his back, and soldiered on.

  They traveled through several rooms, past gear, uniforms, maps, a display dedicated to strategy and formations. One depicting Erwin’s now famous 57th expedition gave Eren pause. He seemed fine for a time, but as they went farther into the museum, he rubbed his temples again and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was growing paler, the smiles which came freely earlier in the day were tapering off. Replaced with an expression of solemnity.

  Eren often squeezed his eyes shut when it seemed to be too much. Like he was crushing the visions in his mind. “I’m trying,” he had said to Levi more than once before he grit his teeth and slogged further inside. Though he didn’t turn back, and Levi hadn’t expected he would.

  Levi wasn’t faring well as they neared the end either. It had been almost four hours since their arrival when they made it almost full circle. His muscles had tightened with the passage into each room, leaving him feeling twisted up. As if it were only a matter of time before his spine would snap or violently unwind. He was reminded of circumstances he hadn’t paid attention to in years, wondering why he would think of them then. It was surreal. Hazy memories flit before his eyes, yet different than what he suspected Eren was experiencing.

  There was only one antechamber left between them and the hall housing the statues beyond. Eren’s shoulders slumped as they stepped inside after a brief pause. This exhibit was dedicated to the shifters. The paintings of titan Eren which adorned the walls could never capture his likeness. He looked as if part of his heart was missing. More foreboding than Levi had ever thought he appeared in life. Feral in some renderings; a snarling and fearsome behemoth. Levi’s stomach churned as Eren stopped to read about their attack in Marley.

  Eren’s neck flexed as he swallowed, his head bowing lower as each minute ticked by. The fingers of his right hand were flicking against his thigh, the movements growing more irregular as he inclined his head, wending his way through the raised inscription toward its conclusion.

  Levi left him his space, only a scant few feet away. Close enough. Though not so much he would crowd him. He saw Eren shudder, the sound of his erratic breaths reaching Levi’s ears before Eren turned to him. His expression was aggrieved, eyes flashing with indignance and imploring disbelief as he clutched the sides of his head, tearing at his hair before he dropped to his knees. His mouth fell open, the only sound which escaped was a croak Levi was sure was a suppressed scream.

  Levi darted to his side, crouching beside him. “What is it?”

  Eren dragged a raspy breath and slammed his fist into the ground. Once, twice, attempting a third strike before Levi seized his wrist.

  “Eren…” Levi said. He didn’t know if it was memories or what he’d just read, but neither prospect relaxed the tightness in his abdomen, nor slowed his already racing heart.

  A mustachioed man at the end of the room was watching, eyeing them with curiosity and suspicion. This couldn’t be happening. Not in the middle of public space, in a museum of all places, surrounded by glass and breakable trinkets. Levi could already see Eren’s knuckles bleeding, dripping onto his best pair of trousers. “Shit, shit, shit,” Levi muttered, the fingers of his free hand kneading Eren’s shoulder.

  “Eren,” he whispered again, falling back to his Captain voice when he received no response. It was like looking at him through the lens of the past when he used to become angry and punch himself. He half expected to see steam rising from Eren’s wounds.

  “Do you need help?” came a voice from somewhere to their right.

  “Stay away!” Levi warned.

  “Eren…” he prodded louder, squeezing his arm, trying to coax him to stand.

  When he didn’t move, Levi took his handkerchief from his pocket, flicked it open, and wrapped it around Eren’s hand. “Eren…” he called again. “Eren, we need to go.” He pinched Eren’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Eren!”

  He was staring back. His eyes were hollow. He had disappeared or retreated from behind them and gone somewhere else. Levi ground his teeth, hissing Eren’s name again, then shook him roughly.

  He didn’t answer at first, though after jostling him once again, his pupils shrunk, seeming to come into focus. Eren’s mouth opened twice before he rasped, “Levi…”

  “Yes,” he said. “We have to leave.”

  “What happened?” Eren looked down at his hand, wincing.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going home.” His eyes darted between Eren and the onlookers gathering around them. Hushed whispers and gasps, the scrape of shoes moving with apprehensive steps across the ground in their direction. Like wolves closing in, circling wounded prey. Levi’s free hand twitched near the side of his boot where he kept his knife.

  “Is he all right?” a lanky man behind them enquired, taking a step closer.

  “I said, keep back!” Levi snarled and hefted Eren to his feet. He would carry him if he had to.

  Eren was dazed, though didn’t lose his footing as Levi gave him a once over. The other patrons were frozen in place, gawking at them. Levi clenched his jaw, twisting his face into a menacing mask.

  “Are you alright to walk?” Levi asked.

  Eren nodded. “Yeah. I think.”

  The crowd surrounding them be damned! Levi linked his arm around Eren’s, ushering him through the hall, past the statues to the doors. He slowed when they made it outside, taking the stairs gingerly. He didn’t need Eren to trip and injure himself further. He still appeared foggy, his steps slow and unmeasured. Eren didn’t say anything when they made it to the curb, and Levi stuck out his arm.

  “We’re taking a cab.”

  Levi detested the motorized carriages, though there was little choice left. He couldn’t drag Eren down the streets back the shop. He wasn’t sure if he could make it, nor was he convinced whatever had happened to Eren in the museum wouldn’t occur again. He hung onto Eren swaying where he stood as he looked down the street, jumping back a step when a matte black car came wailing around the corner and screeched to a halt before them. Levi leaned down, eyeing the unshaven driver with barely hidden disgust. He smelled of alcohol from at least two paces, though when Levi looked back and found Eren rocking, he relented and ushered them into the car. He rattled off the address and took a deep breath. They’d be lucky if the driver didn’t get them into an accident on the way home.

  “Let me see,” Levi said, placing Eren’s hand on his thigh before pulling back the makeshift bandage. It could have been worse.

  “It’s all right,” Eren whispered. His voice sounded watery and strained. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know. Nothing to spill tears over.” Levi waved him off. “I’ve seen you do worse.”

  “But that was the old me.” Eren bit a knuckle on his uninjured hand as Levi blotted at the blood, catching a rivulet running down his forefinger.

  “Not your fault, Brat.”

  Eren only nodded, looking out the window, avoiding Levi’s gaze for the rest of the ride.

  When they arrived back at the flat, Levi paid the driver then wasted no time getting them upstairs and Eren into the washroom. He sat him down on the edge of the tub, rifling through his cabinet for bandages and something to clean the wound with.

  He knelt in front of Eren, shaking a bottle of antiseptic. “Hang onto your balls, this is going to sting.”

  Eren nodded as Levi took his hand, running the tips of his fingers over his palm.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Eren said, hissing when Levi began swabbing his knuckles. “I never did that before?”

  “No,” Levi said, neglecting to tell Eren about his self-harm during The Catalyst. “You’ve had dreams and visions in the past. Mostly inconsequential.”

  “Not like I do now.”

  “Something’s different,” said Levi. “Do you remember anything?”

  Eren was contemplative, his eyes focusing on the ceiling before he scowled down at his wounded knuckles and fingers. “Biting my hand.”

  Levi felt his eyes widen. “Anything else?”

  “I hurt…a lot,” Eren said. “Being angry. So angry everything felt hot. Like I was going to burst into flames.”

  “Your titan body was always scorching. Maybe you remember that.” Levi examined Eren’s fingers, bending them until he grunted. “These two are broken,” he said absently, patting Eren’s knee. “I have to immobilize them.”

  There was a bit of groaning and Eren clenching his teeth, but Levi managed to set his fingers hearing fewer curse words than he expected. After he finished, he applied balm to the wounds and wrapped them as well.

  “There.” Levi squeezed Eren’s forearm. “Should be good now.”

  “Thanks,” Eren whispered and sighed, looking at Levi lost, beseeching. “I can’t start work tomorrow like this.”

  He had forgotten about Eren’s new job. It seemed so unimportant now, given all which happened over the course of the last day. “Dahlia needs help,” Levi offered, “maybe you can do that until this heals.”

  Eren shook his head, eyes downcast. “I don’t have nice enough to clothes to work in the bakery. That’s why I went to the mill, and now these are ruined,” he said glaring at the splotches of blood on his pants.

  Levi’s eyes met Eren’s. “We’ll get you some new things.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  Levi scoffed. It was typical of Eren. “I’ve been married to you more than once, I’m allowed to buy you pants.”

  If the information came as a surprise to Eren, he didn’t show it. His eyes widened for barely a moment before his brows pinched, and he conceded. “I guess I can’t argue.”

  “No.” Levi offered his hand. “C’mon, we could use a cup of tea.”

  He made Eren sit and decompress, putting on the phonograph to distract him while he built a fire back up then went to the kitchen to prepare tea. It was unclear what had happened to Eren, and he hadn’t yet offered Levi an explanation. It was possible he was tight-lipped, or perhaps he didn’t know himself. Levi glanced over his shoulder at the couch as he opened a tin of herbal brew. Eren was staring into the fire, his uninjured hand curled into a white-knuckled fist on his leg, teeth pinching his bottom lip. His eyes looked distant. When they arrived at the museum, they were shining and bright and sparkling. Now they resembled nothing near what they had before. They were dull, the pupils pinned, the whites bloodshot, both ringed with dark circles. Levi sighed, turning his attention back to the counter, spooning leaves into the pot.

  There were only two possibilities for why Eren was so sullen. He was either focusing on what happened when he became unresponsive or brooding over his outburst. There was also a good possibility it was both.

  Levi hissed, nearly splashing boiling water on his hand in his haste as he poured from the kettle. He took a deep settling breath. Trembling fingers and limbs, and this variety of unease weren’t familiar anymore. Levi was helpless, swirling in uncertainty. In the past, holding Eren had been enough, but there was an unfamiliar detachment he saw in him now. As if half of him was floating away somewhere else. Tethered to Eren, yet beyond Levi’s reach.

  He wiped down the counter, tossing the towel to the side rather than folding it, went to the living room with the service, and sat beside Eren. Eren didn’t turn at first or acknowledge him. It was only after Levi filled their cups and nudged one into Eren’s hand that he did.

 “Sorry again,” Eren whispered, steam wafting ahead of him from the teacup as he blew a breath out over the rim.

  “You didn’t know what you were doing,” Levi said in earnest.

  Eren didn’t say anything right away, but he leaned his head on Levi’s shoulder, and let out a pained breath.

  He was warm. Warmer than usual.

  “I didn’t,” Eren finally said, tensing. “What if I do it again?”

  Levi glanced at the tea leaves which had made it to the bottom of his cup. He didn’t have an easy answer. His head hurt attempting to think of one, his stomach turned painfully, fear from the past creeping up his throat, fighting against him as he tried to swallow it down. He was reminded of The Catalyst. The forgotten, clawing mnemonic always in the back of his mind then that they could take Eren away or execute him at any time. “We’ll try not to let it,” was what he settled on.

  “I can’t turn into that again, can I?” Eren asked, voice hoarse and thick.

  “No.” Levi set his cup down and faced Eren. “Your father injected you with the serum. It doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “A titan hasn’t been seen since the war ended.”

  “Okay,” Eren mumbled then took a deep swallow of his tea.

  Levi winced. “That doesn’t burn?”

  “No,” Eren said and took another, leaning back on Levi, and resting his injured hand on his lap. “But my head feels like it’s going to crack open.”

  The contact was reassuring, comforting, natural. Reminiscent of the more carefree Eren Levi knew from this life. One who didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  He tucked a strand of Eren’s hair behind his ear and frowned. “Try to relax,” Levi said, skimming the backs of his fingers down his cheek.

  “I’m trying,” Eren said.

  Levi held his breath, forcing his hand to still against Eren’s side as a wave of discomfort seized him. It was too dark in the flat for mid-afternoon. Somber and murky. The air was dense like it was during the most oppressive summer months. Like breathing through oil. Something he couldn’t put his finger on as he watched flames flickering in the hearth, tensing his arm around Eren when his hand twitched against his thigh. “Need anything?” Levi asked.

  “I just want it to stop.”

  Levi rubbed at Eren’s temple. It wouldn’t make his headache go away, but it had helped calm him in the past. “Clear your head.”

  “I can’t stop thinking.”

  “Think of something peaceful.”

  When they returned, Eren had made no attempt to unravel what had occurred. There was no yelling, ranting, or crying, only the exhaustion which he was already succumbing to. Levi sobered, taking the teacup tilting in Eren’s hand and set it on the table. There was a striking similarity to what Eren’s condition had often been after Hanji’s experiments. When he fought too long or shifted too many times.

   His attention was drawn downward when he felt Eren go pliant against him, and his breathing changed. It was still erratic. Slow and shallow, his breath hot where it puffed against his ribs. Eren was whimpering, his brow pinching into a crease. Levi shifted his hand, smoothing his fingers over the lines to ease them away. Eren’s skin was hot, and sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead.

  Before they retired the night before, Levi hadn’t pressed to pick up the drawings and books spread across the carpet. He thought Eren would want to return to them after taking so much time to create the timeline. Though as Levi surveyed the floor, his eyes narrowed. He couldn’t say for certain what had happened to Eren in the museum, but he would be an imbecile not to consider it had something to do with the artifacts from the past. Eren wouldn’t like it, but it would be prudent to collect everything and set it aside before he awoke.

  Levi considered it could be an overreaction on his part as well. Perhaps Eren was coming down with a cold or the flu and the outing had been too much. Still, he couldn’t dismiss the rising sense of dread in his gut, nor ignore Eren’s quicker and more comprehensive access to his memories in this life. This wasn’t the only time Levi had seen Eren crumple as a splitting headache brought him to his knees. He’d often been incoherent, confused, and forgetful during The Catalyst as well. Eren’s physical weariness which followed an episode wasn’t unfamiliar either, but it was something Levi hadn’t seen in generations.

  Levi usually went to Hanji when Eren was like this, but it wasn’t an option now. They were on their own. Faint though it was, the only hope of guiding them lay in the notes and books strewn on the floor before their feet.

  Eren pressed closer, sinking further into Levi’s embrace.

 “Sleep,” Levi whispered, sliding his hand to rest it over Eren’s heart. “Sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed back is adored, appreciated, and totally coddled like a warm soft blanket. ;)


	13. Chapter 13

 Levi dropped his book in his lap, grasping his pocket watch from the nightstand. He depressed the crown with his thumb, opening the cap with a click.

  Three-forty-eight AM.

  His mouth went dry. Eren had been asleep for almost twelve hours –though a more fitting word to describe it would have been, ‘unconscious.’ It had been impossible to wake him despite Levi’s fretful efforts over the course of the evening. If not for the occasional grimace or tormented whimper from Eren, Levi would have assumed it was a coma. Like the ones that had befallen Eren during The Catalyst.

  For the first four hours, Levi had remained on the sofa with Eren still pressed against him. As the hours passed, Eren melted further into Levi’s embrace, his muscles relaxing as an inexplicable slumber took him. Of course, Levi had wanted more tea, some kind of sustenance, even to take a piss and stretch his legs. However, he’d refused to move. Instead, he stayed by Eren’s side, watching over him with devoted eyes that burned with worried exhaustion. Occasionally, sitting idle became too weighty, and Levi had poked or nudged Eren while calling his name, but he was only met with silence and a disturbingly peaceful expression.  

  When Eren’s legs had begun to slip off the couch, Levi decided it was prudent to rise. He had stood and rearranged Eren on the sofa. Shifting his body until his head was on a pillow then covered him with a light blanket. Levi had been tight with apprehension and anxiety when he looked down upon Eren’s sleeping face, his heart feeling as if had been reeled back by an invisible thread toward his spine before it snapped and tumbled into his gut. It would have been unsurprising for Eren to sleep late into the evening, but what had concerned Levi more was how it had taken him. The building could have started on fire, and Eren wouldn’t have budged.

  At that realization, Levi had sobered. His hands clenching at his sides before he stretched his fingers and shook them. He wouldn’t give in to his unease. Of course, it would stay there, trapped right behind his ribs, but there were things to be done besides lamenting they had ever gone to the museum. Namely tidying up the books and papers still laying on the floor and moving them out of sight.

  He had been careful when he did so. Reverent in his movements as he collected the pages of parchment, stacking them in the same order Eren had laid them in. Instead of returning the drawings to their places on the studio walls, Levi had left them atop his drafting table. When he had finished, he closed the door with a heavy sigh, yet forewent locking it. His intention wasn’t to forbid Eren access, nor to take the items away, but without knowing what had occurred in the museum, it only seemed logical for Eren to hold off any attempts to trigger his memory.

  Levi spent the bulk of the next six hours sitting on the floor, leaned up against the couch, trying to focus on reading. Dinner had been bland soup. Foodstuffs were running low, and it was thrown together without care or consideration for flavor. But he’d forced his meal down, finding no respite or relief as he drank disinterested sips of the gritty concoction. Scowling around the last mouthful, he had scanned the room. The blandness of the meal had been a fitting accompaniment to the eerie stillness of the flat. It seemed unnaturally quiet. The walls had appeared wrong, the light from the lamp casting a tenebrous gloom across floorboards which had seemed strangely warped and too dark. Like the bulb illuminating the space was set behind a filthy glass shade.

  Regardless of his attempts at distraction, Levi hadn’t been able to make it through more than two pages of his book before his gaze had been drawn back to Eren. Sometimes Levi had squeezed Eren’s shoulder or arm and called his name close to his ear. Once he had found himself shaking Eren’s boneless body in his hands, only to receive a whimper in return. Levi had planted his face in his hands at that before he sucked in an admonishing breath and rechecked Eren’s temperature. He had grown hotter over the course of the evening, feverish. It wasn’t comparable to the level of heat Levi recalled feeling on his skin when Eren was a shifter, though it had been enough to compel him to fill the basin. He busied himself wiping down Eren’s face, throat, and chest with a cold, wet cloth every half an hour before placing one over his brow and another against the thick artery in his neck.

  When it was after midnight, Levi had decided to move Eren to the bed. He left to turn down the sheets before returning to heft him up and carry him. Eren wasn’t heavy for Levi, but he was long and limp, a dead weight in his arms. And the back of his shirt and vest were soaked so thoroughly Levi’s sleeves were damp when he laid him gently on the bed.

  Ignoring his own discomfort, Levi had stripped Eren down to his drawers, then sponged away the layer of sweat from his skin. Eren hadn’t stirred during any of it. Not when Levi moved him, not when he freed him of his clothing, nor when he rolled him onto his stomach to wipe down his back with a crisp, wet towel.

  Nothing left to be done, Levi had undressed, tended the fire, and gotten into bed beside him. He wouldn’t find sleep until Eren awoke, so for the time, he had propped up his pillows and settled back to scan one of his books for clues.

  That had been over two hours earlier. The fear which had felt like a soft brush inside Levi’s chest during the afternoon ignited as he returned his watch to the table. A hot prickle of heat he tried to swallow down when he looked at Eren passed out at his side.

  There were times in the past when he had been out before for far longer than twelve hours, though not in this life –at least as far as Levi knew. He held his eyes closed, releasing a hissing exhale, rubbing his eyelids hard with the tips of his fingers. He wasn’t sure what to do or where the limit was. This wasn’t Eren who could turn into a titan. Still, the affirmation that there was no one Levi could trust with this weighed like a boulder in his consciousness. An earthquake ripping through the rational parts of his mind, leaving only raw panic and foreboding. There was no Hanji to observe, analyze, and help keep watch, nor Armin to offer suggestions, or Mikasa to fret with him in silence. In the past, spells like this were explained by overexertion, and though he suspected it was the memories, he wasn’t certain what the problem was now.

  Levi’s hands slipped from his face when he heard Eren groan. It was the most noise he’d made in hours. He turned and crouched next to Eren. Inching closer, he examined his expression, watching a line crease above his nose, his lips twisting into a pained scowl. He could see his eyes twitching under lids clenched tight.

  Placing his palm on Eren’s forehead, Levi leaned nearer, moving his lips close to his ear. “Eren,” Levi called. “You need to wake up.”

  He pulled back only enough to scrutinize Eren’s face, looking for evidence he had heard his voice. His expression didn’t change. It was still tightly pinched, his jaw tight and flexed, eyes clamped shut. He groaned again, and a disturbance to Levi’s right drew his attention.

  Eren’s arm shifted under the sheet. It was the first time he had moved on his own in half a day. It began like something close to a jerk, the motion growing more frenzied as Eren flailed, fighting to free it from under the blankets.

  “Eren,” Levi said again, pulling back the bedding.

  Eren’s reaction was near instantaneous. His injured hand flying up toward his open mouth. Levi snatched him by the wrist before he could bite into it, wincing when Eren’s jaw shut with the loud clack of teeth.

  “Shit,” Levi hissed as Eren tried to free his arm.

  He was nearly growling as Levi pinned him down, his torso bowing, legs kicking as he tried to free himself from the hold.

  “Eren!” Levi shouted, leaning over him. “Damn it, Eren. Stop!”

  Levi’s eyes widened as Eren screamed. It tapered off to a high pitched whimper, wounded and furious before he went slack. Levi didn’t release his grip as he called him again.

  “Eren.”

  Swallowing slowly, Eren let out a cracking whisper. “Levi?”

  “Open your eyes,” Levi said, more firmly than he intended to.

  It took a moment, but Eren’s eyes fluttered open. He looked up at Levi, blinking before he coughed and took a deep panicked breath. Like he had been drowning and needed to replenish his lungs with oxygen after all the water had been expelled.

  “Slow down,” Levi said when Eren took another and another and another in quick succession. He released him and placed his hand on his chest. “Slow breaths.”

  Eren nodded, and Levi felt the tension drain. He rubbed his forehead. If Levi were a more emotional sort, he would have cried or gathered Eren up in his arms. Instead, he collapsed back on his haunches, and knelt next to Eren, continuing to observe his eyes. They were back to normal. The clarity and depth in them returning as his pupils expanded in the faint light of the room.

  “How did I get in bed?” Eren whispered, scanning his surroundings.

  “You’ve been out for twelve hours. I carried you in here a while ago.”

  “Twelve hours,” Eren repeated, pushing himself up on his forearms.

  “You feel asleep shortly after we returned.” Levi pushed a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t wake you.”

  “I feel hot.”

  “You have a fever.” Levi laid the backs of his fingers on Eren’s cheek. “Though it’s gone down some.”

  Eren reached for Levi’s hand as he pulled it away, squeezing it in his own. He flicked his eyes up toward the ceiling and chewed his lip.

  Levi knew the look. “Don’t cry,” he whispered.

 Flopping back onto the pillow, Eren threw his free arm over his eyes. “I don’t even know why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why I feel like crying.”

  Levi touched Eren’s arm carefully, stroking it gently before he pulled it from his face. Eren didn’t fight him, but his chin quivered as their eyes met.

  “Do you remember anything?” Levi asked.

  “No,” Eren hissed, “but I feel like shit.”

  “You still have a fairly high fever.”

  “Not just like that,” Eren said. “My head feels dark. Sad...worse than sad. Something so much worse than sad. I don’t know a word for it.”

  “You were dreaming, I think.”

  Eren sighed and wiped his eyes. “I know I was…but I don’t remember anything.”

  “Nothing?”

  “No.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you in the museum?”

  Eren shook his head. He rolled to face Levi and tugged him toward him. When Levi moved closer, Eren clamped his arm over him and buried his face in his chest. He was still ague and clammy in Levi’s embrace, though Levi could feel the fine hairs rise against the chill of the room where he stroked the nape of Eren’s neck.

  To Levi’s surprise, there was no shuddering. No hot tears streaming against his chest, only a few quiet sniffs and Eren’s fist moving between them as he rubbed his eyes. Still, Levi anticipated sobbing and steeled himself for the downpour of emotions. It was unfair, unjust. The Catalyst had been horrifying enough without it trailing the two of them like a stalker from life to life. Eren recalled very little of it during his other incarnations, but Levi could always see the scar of it beneath the surface. A great slash which marred Eren’s chest and crackled like lightning through his eyes.

  In the past, when Eren had a night like this he went one of two ways; like a storm, livid and boiling, though other times, he was quiet and disconnected, spending hours staring through the window, or at the flames whirling in the grate. But no matter how it began, he always required Levi.

  Feeling Eren kiss his chest, Levi tightened his grip in his hair. It wasn’t innocent. Not with how his lips moved, mouthing his flesh. Eren’s tongue flicking out, teeth biting and scraping as he traveled higher up, stopping to suck the hollow at the base of Levi’s neck. Levi could feel his own groan before he heard it when Eren grasped his ass and pulled his pelvis tight against his stomach.

  It had been too long, and Levi hardened as Eren slipped his leg over him and began thrusting into his thigh.

  “Levi,” Eren breathed between kisses as his lips traveled up Levi’s throat. “Levi…can we?”

  Eren was so hot. Still burning up. Levi could feel it like fire against his palms as he skimmed his hands down Eren’s back. His jaw tightened as their mouths met, relaxing when Eren began nipping and sucking, plunging his tongue between his parted lips. Greedy, desperate, and starved.

  Levi’s restraint was falling away, his control crumbling into dust, a need which sat like a tiny flame in his gut igniting. If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t be able to.

  He pulled back, taking Eren’s face between unsteady hands. Their chests heaved against each other with each labored inhale. How Levi hated what he was about to say. He wanted to skim his fingers down Eren’s neck, trail them across his collarbones, his muscular back, feel each vertebra in his spine. Then unfasten the buttons on the front of his drawers, slide them down slim, square hips, and gaze down at Eren spread eagerly before him again.

  “What?” Eren asked with a lopsided smile.

  “You’re overheated.” Levi wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead.

  “Of course I am,” Eren said, closing the space between them.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Eren didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t seem angry either. He pursed his lips looking down at Levi’s chest, tracing the love bites he had left with his fingertip. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “And you haven’t eaten.” Levi shifted his hand. “Your stomach is growling.”

  “I’ll eat,” Eren groused. “I don’t know…I felt awful one minute, and then I just wanted to.”

  “It helps you cope,” Levi said, tipping Eren’s chin up.

  “Maybe...”

  “It does,” said Levi, “You’ve always been that way. Some lives more than others.”

  “Like The Catalyst.”

  Levi nodded. “We’d get back from an operation, you’d cry, and then you always wanted to fuck.”

  “It’s how I knew you were really alive.”

  “Did you remember that?” Levi asked, going stiff. Eren had said it so plainly, so casually.

  “I don’t think so,” Eren said. “I just know. It came out of my mouth without thinking.”

  “You’re not wrong.” Levi could remember their bodies moving together. Fingers pressing, hands grasping. Flashes of golden tan, flushed rose, and fierce green before his eyes. Eren whispering relieved half words in his ear and against his lips. Glassy eyes looking into his own so intensely Levi was sure Eren was trying to swallow him up inside them so he could keep him forever. “You said as much in your own way.”

  “I’m always so afraid of losing you.”

  Eren had said that to Levi before. It didn’t escape his notice how Eren had framed the statement. Formatted it in the present rather than the past tense. It reminded him of Eren in the bakery when he had slipped and referred to ‘the dark-haired man’ as Levi directly. At the time, he had suspected Eren didn’t realize, but he’d been unable to ask or dig any further since Eren didn’t know the truth. It was different now, though he was apprehensive to press too far.

  “It’s not the same as it was then,” Levi finally said.

  “What isn’t?” Eren asked, sounding confused.

  “Your fear of losing me this time,” Levi explained. “You said you’re always afraid of losing me. Do you remember?”

  Eren wet his lips and looked away. “No.”

  It was as Levi suspected. Reminiscent of Eren when he and Hanji had gone to release him and Mikasa from the jail, and they found him muttering to himself. He looked terrible and hadn’t remembered what he’d been talking about moments before. “Don’t worry about it now.”

  “But I’m saying things I don’t remember.”

  “I know,” Levi said. “But it’s happened before.”

  “Why the hell would it happen now?”

  “I don’t know,” Levi said. “Maybe because you are recalling things from that life. It’s possible the memories come differently because of it.”

  “Could that happen?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Levi said. “But I’m sure you need something to eat.”

  “I’ll eat something.” Eren’s voice was soft, conceding, though he began tracing shapes on Levi’s chest again, acting coy. “But later…when my fever’s gone…”

  Eren didn’t finish, but Levi knew what he was getting at. There was still lingering concern about the fever, the sleep Levi couldn’t rouse Eren from no matter what he tried, but the thought of denying him left a pang in Levi’s chest he didn’t like. Levi had gone his entire life without any sort of romantically intimate contact with anyone. Not that Levi didn’t enjoy Eren, didn’t want him, didn’t relish the feeling that would come during that beautiful moment when it felt as if they had melded into one, but he could wait. He had already waited. It wasn’t so much for him, but he knew Eren was different. Whereas for Levi it was something extra, beautiful, yet not required, for Eren it was so much more. It was like air and water and food and sleep.

  “We will when you don’t feel like you could spark a bundle of kindling,” Levi assured.

  He watched Eren’s Adam’s apple work in his throat as he swallowed. “We don’t have to have sex, you know,” Eren said, the feverish rouge on his cheeks deepening. “But I want you close to me. Doing something to me, anything...I don’t care.”

  It wasn’t an unreasonable request. It was a plea for comfort. Levi knew their couplings after battles were not only to confirm their vitality; to reinforce they weren’t dead. It was also consolation as they took solace in one another. Levi could always retreat into his head if needed, drink a cup of tea as he simmered darkly inside and pressed it all down. Eren, on the other hand, would fall apart without it, and Levi could never say no.

  In truth, he never wanted to.

  “I’m not refusing you,” Levi finally said, feeling Eren’s forehead again. “But you’re burning up.”

  “I know,” Eren grumbled.

  Levi countered Eren’s pout with a kiss. It was almost chaste, though he prolonged it for a few extra moments in promise before he pulled away. “Food now, and a cold washcloth for your forehead.”

 

*****

 

 

  Once Levi had gotten Eren up, and out of the bedroom, it hadn’t taken much convincing to get some water and food into him. Levi had bid Eren sit on the couch with a cold cloth on his head before he brought him water. Eren had proceeded to drink the first two glasses as if he had been through a desert. The third Eren sipped while Levi was reheating the flavorless soup he’d prepared earlier in the evening.

  If the blandness had bothered Eren, he didn’t say so. He had licked his lips and taken the bowl from Levi’s hands with a grateful smile, then slurped it down in less than five minutes.

  The burst of energy Eren had when they were still in the bed fizzled not too long after he finished his food and his fourth glass of water. He had trailed Levi back into the bedroom without argument and curled up on his side under the blankets, his eyes falling shut almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  Levi hadn’t been worried. He expected it. Whatever state Eren had been in —whether sleep or some sort of unconsciousness— it didn’t provide any real rest. In the past, Eren had always been drained when similar spells happened. The reason for them may have been different, but Eren’s state in the aftermath was not. It was the same as it always was during The Catalyst. Eren would wake, they would feed him, tend to him, and he’d fall right back to sleep.

  His temperature wasn’t as high as it had been when he came out of it either. Better yet, Eren was responsive in his slumber when Levi pressed his hand to his face again. He had watched Eren curl up tighter and heave a contented little sigh, smiling to himself as he turned out the lamp and settled next to him.

  In the morning, Eren was still feverish, though barely so, and hadn’t argued when Levi had drawn him a lukewarm bath. He had wanted Eren to stay up in the flat and rest, but he’d insisted on going home to change, assuring Levi he would bring extra clothes back with him. No matter how much Levi restrained himself, he knew Eren sensed his unease. He’d had to clamp his mouth shut and bite the inside of his lip when Eren had insisted he would stop in the shops on the way back to get them food. The pantry was bare. Unless Levi closed the store and did it himself, there’d be nothing for dinner.

  He had grumbled to himself, but handed Eren money for groceries while ignoring his protests, turned the shop’s sign to ‘OPEN,’ then sent him on his way with a parting squeeze of his hand.

  It wasn’t that Levi didn’t feel Eren wasn’t fit to make it home and back again in his still slightly feverish state, but there was uncertainty concerning Eren’s memories. He’d been agreeable when Levi explained he’d put everything back in the studio. Nodding with a resigned expression when Levi told him he needed to back off on trying to spark his memories for at least a few days. There was still fear Eren could have another unexpected spell, and if he did, Levi wanted to be there when it happened. There was no one fit to care for Eren other than him.

  Once the door was shut, Levi sighed as he looked out the front window, watching Eren’s figure shrinking as he meandered down the sidewalk in the direction of his flat. Levi didn’t move until Eren rounded the corner and was out of view.

  He attempted to go about his regular routine. First, he made tea. A settling pot of Jasmine instead of his morning Rooibos. The light scent calmed the restless kicking in his chest as he prepared the infusion with practiced movements of his hands, taking each step in the same order he did each day. The familiar hiss and crackle from the base of the kettle when he placed it on the stove, his toes stretching as he set the tin back in its place on the shelf, wiping down the small counter of any water drips before he turned and leaned against the cabinet in the same spot he always did.

  Rubbing his hands over his face, his mind wandered back to Eren. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were still present when he’d left, his skin which usually glowed looked stretched, transparent, and pale. More like Levi’s own fair pallor. Levi had urged Eren to eat what was left of the most terrible soup he had ever made, but perhaps it wasn’t enough. It only consisted of a tasteless broth, boiled potatoes and a measly helping of carrots and beans he had found on the bottom shelf of the pantry. He’d bought those vegetables only a week before, but perhaps the broth had turned. What if he made Eren sick?

  Levi thrust the thought from his mind with a sweep of fingers through his hair. The flavor wasn’t appealing, but it hadn’t tasted off, and if it could make Eren sick, then he would be as well. The twisting knot in his gut had nothing to do with shitty soup. He knew where it stemmed from. Eren would be fine. Eren could take care of himself. He’d faced much greater strife in other lives. Having his limbs bitten off, cut off, his face torn from his skull, various injuries too numerous to tally, and weakness after shifting too much. A fever and some memories weren’t going to kill him or leaving him incapacitated in the street. Still, Levi couldn’t stifle his imagination. Eren seeing something again when he was alone in his apartment, harming himself once more as the trance took him. His body slumped on the floor as he surrendered to the recollections. Levi would wait in the shop, glancing at his watch, finally locking the door and forgetting to turn the sign when it was too much before he ran to Eren’s home to check on him.

  He laughed at his paranoia. He’d bang on the door only to have Eren fling it open looking at him as if he had lost his mind. His eyes half-lidded and sleepy because he’d gotten tired and surrendered to a nap on the couch.

  He clenched his eyes shut, trying to center himself when he heard the jingle of the door. “Just a moment,” he called as he grasped the kettle and filled the teapot. He’d forgotten he was even open.

  When he left the back room, tea in hand, Barney was leaning against the counter, smiling. This wasn’t one of his typical days to come looking for books.

  “Good morning, Levi,” Barney said, raising his hand.

  “This is unusual,” Levi remarked, taking his seat behind the counter. “It’s not Tuesday.”

  “No, no,” Barney said with a smile.

  “I don’t get my next shipment until later today.”

  “I know,” Barney said, then paused and rubbed his palms together. “But I was just at the bakery, and-”

  “And Dahlia,” Levi interrupted.

  “You’ve got me.”

  “You want to know about Eren.”

  “Of course,” Barney admitted. “Though I’ll have to come back tomorrow evening to meet him properly.”

  “He’ll return soon.”

  Barney’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Dahlia told me he was to start work at the mill today.”

  “He suffered a minor accident.” Levi glanced down at the cup in his hands, swirling the amber liquid in it. “Injured his fingers.”

  “What a shame.” Barney frowned. “How did that happen?”

  Levi pursed his lips. He couldn’t tell him the truth. “Only a small mishap.”

  “Oh.” Barney straightened, grasping the lapels of his thick corduroy jacket. “I’m sure there’ll still be work once he’s healed.”

  “He was thinking of getting a job at the bakery.”

  “Dahlia always does need help.” Barney smirked. “Though, she can be a brutal taskmaster. It’s why she can’t keep any of her employees.”

  Levi snorted. An image of Dahlia chasing down her workers with a flour covered rolling pin entering his mind. “She can’t be that bad.”

  “She demands perfection,” Barney said. He tapped his fingers on the counter. “You have had her apple cake, have you not?”

  “Hm,” Levi hummed with a nod. He remembered Eren’s face light up when he’d set the piece she’d given them in the center of the table with two forks. “It’s not bad.”

  “Not Bad?” Barney barked before his mouth spread into a wide grin. “It’s the best damn apple cake on the continent.” He leaned forward pointing a thick index finger at Levi. “In fact, it might be the best damn cake in the world.”

  “How could I argue with such an endorsement?”

  “You couldn’t,” Barney said, pushing away from the counter. “I’ll have a look while we wait for Eren. There’s still a few Elsa Webster novels I was interested in.”

  “I was surprised you didn’t buy them all.”

  “Pacing, Son,” Barney explained. “Pacing.”

  “If you’re staying, would you care for tea?”

  “I’ll take a cup.”

  Levi left Barney to peruse his stock. He didn’t make a habit of harassing his customers. Of course, he was there, attentive if they had questions, but Levi often stayed behind the counter until they had need of him. Barney rarely did. He was hooked on only a few authors, somewhat discerning in his tastes, and tended to know what he was looking for when he found it.

  He made a fresh pot of tea, choosing Earl Grey this time. The soft creak of the floorboards beneath the carpeting told him Barney was still browsing, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he skimmed. It was a tendency Levi noticed the first time Barney had come to his store years before.

  When Levi went back out into the shop, Barney was bouncing between the mahogany bookshelves like a child waiting for a promised sweet. The corner of Levi’s mouth tipped up as he passed, making his way to the sitting area by the windows. If he stayed behind the counter, he would end up staring out the window or counting and recounting money from the till.

  “Have you got our eyes set on anything?” Levi called as he poured out two servings of tea, relaxing back into the soft leather of his favorite chair. He swore he detected Eren’s scent on it. The spicy aftershave he used mixed with the clean, dewy aroma Levi could smell when he buried his nose against the slope of his neck. He took a quick, deep sniff and closed his eyes, trying to hold onto the essence, wondering how long until he could experience the real thing again.   

  “Two, in fact!” Barney poked his head out from behind the shelf, drawing Levi from his musings. “Just let me grab the other.” He had the tomes clutched in his hands as he seated himself in the chair Dahlia always chose.

  Barney fell right into a conversation about Elsa Webster, one-sided as it was. Regaling to Levi her way with words and touting the depth of her characters. Levi found his mind wandering more than usual as Barney blathered about her ‘captivating plotlines,’ ‘enthralling subtext,’ and ‘idiosyncratic word choices.’

  For the most part, Levi nodded, adding an encouraging comment here and there so Barney wouldn’t realize his mind was drifting more than usual. His fingers often hovered over the pocket in his vest where his watch was. Checking it would bring Eren home no sooner, and would expose how distracted he was. That being said, he was grateful for the company. A surprising turn, as often Levi found himself overwhelmed with such lengthy conversations with customers. There was only so much he could endure before he longed for the shop to be silent. When he could close his eyes, inhale the scent of parchment and leather before he sipped his tea to recharge.

  They were into their second pot of Earl Grey, and Barney into his lofty expectations for the second book he chose when the door swung open.

  Levi whipped his head in the direction of the sound. His entire body dripping with relief when he saw Eren’s face peeking over the top of two brown paper bags stuffed in his arms.

  “Let me help,” Levi said, rising to take one from Eren.

  “Thanks. They’re not too heavy.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Much,” Eren said. “The fresh air did me good.”

  Levi lifted a brow. It was a silent question. _‘Are you truly better?’_

  “I’m fine,” Eren assured. “Really.”

  What Levi wanted to do was pull Eren close, make sure he was no longer burning up, that he hadn’t loosened his bandage carrying bags home. Levi felt like a mother hen, but wouldn’t make a scene in the shop.

  “Eren,” Levi said, gesturing in the direction of the sitting area, “this is Barney.”

  “Happy to finally meet you,” Barney said, extending his hand in Eren’s direction.

  “You too,” Eren said, clasping his uninjured hand around Barney’s.

  “Dahlia never stops talking about you.”

  Eren smiled, his eyes gleaming with mischievousness. “I could say the same.”

  Levi cleared his throat. “I’ll take these upstairs.”

  “I can do it,” Eren offered, turning so Levi could see the bag hanging over his shoulder. “I brought some things.”

  Eren wouldn’t have to depart in the morning now to fetch clothes. Not that Levi assumed Eren would begin living with him right away, but he was reluctant to be away from him after their experience the day before. At least for a few days. Just long enough to calm his fraying nerves.

  “You can put them away in the bedroom wherever you like,” he whispered. It was difficult for Levi to suppress his smile. “The left side of the bureau is empty.”

  “You moved your clothes for me?”

  “It’s always been empty.”

  “Waiting?” Eren asked.

  Levi nodded once, his cheeks heating up. The paper bag crinkled as he tightened his arm around it and peeked inside.

  “I got good things.” Eren grinned. “The last crusty loaf from the bakery too.”

  “Dahlia wasn’t too much?” Levi said. “Did you ask her about work?”

  “She wasn’t there.” Eren reached for the other bag. “Here, let me.”

  Levi conceded, fishing his key from his pocket and handing it over to Eren along with the groceries. When he disappeared into the back room, Levi resettled into his chair, going boneless when his body met the cushions. A huffed tried to escape, but he held it in, aware Barney was observing him.

  “He has you worried,” Barney said, leaning his elbows on his knees.

  Levi didn’t imagine he had been so transparent. That the evidence of his fret was written all over his face, there for anyone to see. “No, not really.”

  “No point in trying to hide it,” Barney said. “Your shoulders are tenser than usual.”

  Levi took a swallow of tea, paling behind his cup. “He had a fever last night.”

  “There’s been a bug going ‘round town.” Barney stretched back, pressing his lips together in silence before he continued, “nothing to worry about. And he seemed to be well. A bit pallid, but nothing a nice cup of tea and rest won’t take care of.”

  Levi nodded and looked at his hands. If only it were that simple. He hadn’t heard any thuds from above, just the occasional creak of Eren moving about the flat. Judging from where the sound was coming from, he was in the kitchen putting their provisions away. Perhaps he’d shaken off what affected him through the night. Maybe it was too much for him at once. An information overload between the seeing the studio and visiting the museum. Still, it suggested Eren’s memories may be coming to the surface, ready to be triggered. If that were the case, they might have no control over how or when they came forth.

  When Levi glanced up, Barney was already paging through one of his books, the volume propped on his round belly as he snuggled back into the corner of his chair. Levi wasn’t so much in the mood for idle chit-chat, and the thought of closing the shop for the day crossed his mind when Eren emerged from the back room.

  “Everything is put away,” he said, as he took the seat next to Levi then reached for the tea.

  Levi narrowed his eyes. Eren’s hand trembled as it grasped the handle of the pot, his brows set with a determined pinch between them as if he were trying to thread a needle.

  He looked up at Levi, his expression warming. “I feel better, a little shaky is all.”

  “Levi said you were feeling under the weather,” Barney said, setting his book down on the table. “This cold snap is doing no one any good. Germs everywhere.”

  Eren shrugged, brightening. “I like the snow. We didn’t have it on the coast.”

  Barney’s eyes twinkled as his brows rose with an inquisitive jump. “That’s where you hail from?”

  “Yeah.” Eren’s eyes flicked toward Levi before he looked into his teacup. “I left after the storms.”

  Barney shook his head. “They were awfully destructive last autumn.”

  Levi’s watched the exchange, swallowing too many times trying to rid himself of the stabbing sensation in the back of his throat. Eren’s history in this life had barely arisen in any of their conversations. Levi hadn’t taken any time to ask Eren about his past in this incarnation. About his family or friends, or what his life had been like before he came to Trost. He had been so wrapped up in his own unsettled emotions and thoughts. First, enduring Eren’s continued presence and the constant debate whether to tell him the truth or not. Then focusing on Eren’s dreams. Since Levi revealed their history only two days earlier, they had been drowning in what Eren could and couldn’t remember, and The Catalyst.

  “We lost everything,” Eren said after a long silence. His eyes were distant as he looked across the room. “There was nothing to stay for.”

  “What of your family?” Barney asked.

  Eren cleared his throat. “My mother passed when I was young, and my father moved to the southern coast when I came of age.”

  Levi said nothing, though the information surprised him. He supposed it shouldn’t have. Both he and Eren seemed destined to lose family. Though it wasn’t always the case. He could recall other lives which had been filled with visits to parents’ homes and family gatherings. Birthday celebrations with more attendees than the two of them. The similarities indicated there was more to the cycles than just what affected Levi and Eren though, of that Levi was sure. He’d endured more than one lifetime himself when he didn’t know who his father was, and he had lost his mother young too often.

  “It’s a shame how it came about,” Barney said, heaving a heavy sigh, “but it’s good to have you in Trost, Eren. Wouldn’t you say, Levi?”

  “Of course,” Levi said, omitting that Eren had been drawn to the district. That he had been drawn to him.

  “Nothing to get down about,” Eren said with a mild smile, glancing at Barney and then Levi. “I’m happy here.”

  “And you couldn’t find a better bookshop in the whole of Paradis,” Barney added. “I take it you’re a reader, Eren?”

  Eren dipped his head and took a sip of tea. “A little.”

  “What do you like?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Eren said, looking into his cup again as if it could answer for him. “Action, I suppose.”

  “I could have guessed.” Barney held up one of his books. “But have you ever tried romance?”

  Levi warmed, noticing a flush coming to Eren’s cheeks as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “I’ve never read any,” Eren said. “Are they any good?”

  Barney smirked. “‘Good’ might not be the right word to describe them,” he explained, “but they have a certain charm I enjoy.”

  “I guess I could try reading one.”

  “Allow me to suggest Elsa Webster then,” Barney said. “Levi can attest to them being better than most, I’m sure.”

  Levi snorted. “They’re something more than most.”

  Barney let out a booming laugh, tossing his head back. “They are a bit more detailed.”

  “I think ‘explicit’ is the word you’re searching for,” Levi offered.

  “Huh?” Eren said, “what’s in them?”

  The left side of Levi’s mouth curled. “A lot of sex.”

  “They are a tad tawdry, I suppose,” Barney said, “but I would argue Ms. Webster writes it better than most.”

  “Hm,” Levi hummed, watching Eren’s flush spread down his neck. “They’re not like those magazines at the newsstand, but close.”

  “Those magazines are purely pornographic...unlike novels.” Barney scoffed. “I would begin with ‘The Wisteria in June,’” he said, thumping his forefinger on the polished, wooden tabletop. “Enchanting story, really. About Molly Underhill, a servant employed at a merchant’s home in Mitras. The young master of the household, Thomas, falls in love with her, though they must keep it a secret. Each evening she throws a rope down from the window of her room in the servants’ quarters which Thomas climbs, careful not to disturb the delicate wisteria which grows up the trellis. Excellent characterizations...for a romance novel that is.”

  Levi stopped just short of rolling his eyes and looked at Eren. “You’re free to take one upstairs for evening reading.”

  Eren chewed his lip, considering. “I don’t know…maybe.”

  “What can it hurt?” Barney said clapping his hands together.

  “Maybe it couldn’t.”

  While they finished another pot of tea, Levi’s worry began to diminish. Eren made casual conversation with Barney while Levi took care of the customers who came in. Though Levi’s gaze never wandered too far from Eren. If anything he only looked tired now. The feverish flush to his cheeks having ebbed to pale pink. After Barney left, Eren stood on more stable feet than he appeared to have had earlier, and stretched.

  “I’m going to turn the sign for a bit,” Levi said.

  “Lunch?” Eren asked.

  “You could use something too.”

  Levi only left the store long enough to cobble together some bread and cheese. Eren had done well stocking the pantry, filling it with staples, and a few modest indulgences, including two bars of chocolate and a quart of cream.

  They sat in the living area to eat, Levi once more forgoing a meal at the table in the kitchen. There was a pleasant tingle in his chest as he balanced his plate on his knees, watching Eren out of the corners of his eyes. Eren’s appetite was hearty, not as it had been in the morning when he’d eaten as if he was choking down mud. And it wasn’t famished as it had been the night before when Eren had gulped water and soup like sustenance had been withheld from him for days.

  When they were finished Eren groaned on the couch, cracking his neck. “I think I’ll take a nap.” He stood, taking Levi’s dish on the way to the sink. “I can get these,” he said.

  “Feeling all right?” Levi asked.

  “Mostly,” Eren said, adding, “I’m just tired. Maybe I did overdo it.”

  Levi rested his hand on Eren’s shoulder. “It takes time to recover.”

  “I won’t poke around in the studio.”

  “I didn’t forbid you.”

  “I know you didn’t,” said Eren, “part of me wants to, but it’s best for now.” He was quiet for a moment, his eyes hidden behind a few wisps of fringe. “It scared me.”

  Levi took Eren’s hand, brushing his thumb over his knuckles. He could see the fear and confusion in his eyes when he looked up at him.

  “I’ll be fine,” Eren said. “Get back downstairs.”

 

*****

  

  Levi’s entire body ached, his muscles pulled taut throughout the rest of the day. There was an urge to do only a cursory clean up of the shop, though he forced himself to replace the books scattered in the sitting area to their respective places on the shelves. After that, he dusted and retrieved the money from the till. He pulled in a breath and shook his head as he grabbed an Elsa Webster novel, then switched off the last of the lamps. He could hear Eren moving about upstairs for the last couple hours. His ears had pricked each time there was a bump or footsteps, his fingers tapping out an uneven rhythm on the counter while he refused to fish his watch from his pocket and check the time.

  When he entered the apartment, he was a greeted by the scent of cooked meat and savory herbs. The table was set, a low lamp placed to the side. Eren was standing at the stove barefoot in his undershirt and a worn, baggy pair of slacks, spooning sauce from a pan.

  Levi’s eyes traveled up, and his breath stopped along with his feet. The rich, brown locks which usually hung around Eren’s face in wild waves were tied up high at the crown of his head in a loose, messy bun. Levi had hoped he still fancied wearing it that way.

  Beautiful.

  Eren was even more so when he turned to Levi and grinned, tossing a tea towel over his shoulder as he beckoned Levi closer. Levi stepped forward, reaching up to twist a bit of Eren’s hair which had slipped from the tie around his finger. Eren was striking like this, and Levi felt neediness for him prickle over his skin as goosebumps rose. He hadn’t experienced a craving like that in an age. It hovered with the familiarity of a faded dream. Moments in the past when he had looked up from his evening tea to see Eren standing by moonlit windows in his nightshirt. How his interest in whatever he was doing would drop as his mouth watered and his stomach would coil with soft, fuzzy warmth.

  “Don’t worry, I rested,” Eren said. “Woke up a couple hours ago and thought I should make dinner.”

  “You don’t look like shit anymore.” Levi smirked, pulling himself back from fantasies and visions of the past, his smile softening as he traced his thumb over Eren’s cheekbone with tender strokes. His skin was soft, a little stubbly as he trailed lower to the edge of his jaw. It was cooler too, a normal temperature.

  “Thanks,” Eren whispered, his eyes glinting as he leaned down to steal kisses. “So you aren’t going to scowl at me for making dinner?” he said against Levi’s lips before he drew back.

  Levi shook his head. “Need help?”

  Eren pointed to two steaming dishes on the counter. One with braised meat and mushrooms, the other filled with toasted bread slathered with herbs and shallots.

  Levi’s lip tipped up as he set the plates on the table. Eren had tried to make it look neat. He swiped a finger through a smear of sauce Eren had attempted to wipe away like they did in expensive restaurants. He tasted it, relishing the flavor of rosemary and sage.

  “My mom used to make this,” Eren said as he pulled out his chair with a rough sound across the floor. “My dad never made it as good, and he never taught me, but I think I remember how he did it.”

  “Is it venison?” Levi asked, taking his seat.

  “With mushrooms and shallots.” Eren scratched the back of his head, eyeing the food then Levi’s plate. “Go ahead.”

  Levi took his fill, his stomach chiming in with an encouraging growl.

  Eren snorted. “I knew you didn’t have enough for lunch.”

  Levi gave his shin a light kick under the table. “I’d have less room for this then.” He waited until Eren served himself before he took up his knife and fork and sliced into a cut of meat on his plate.

  Most often, Levi ate slowly, enjoying the flavor and texture of his food, appreciating the simple act of filling his stomach. He had spent too many childhoods in starvation, desperately gnawing on whatever scraps his mothers could provide. He knew hunger pains so thorough they made his bones and muscles ache, his gut feeling like a knife was being twisted in it. This meal was different. Eren had prepared it and was watching Levi with cautious hope as he tried each and every ingredient. He wanted to eat it with enthusiasm, though at the same time, he wanted to savor it.

  He looked up Eren who was half hiding behind his napkin, his eyes narrowed in an examining frown.

  “Do you like it?” Eren asked, anxiety cutting the usual volume in his voice by at least half.

  Levi swallowed. “Not bad. The seasonings are perfect for the meat.”

  Eren’s expression fell from something which looked questioning to disappointment.

  “I’m not lying,” said Levi sensing Eren’s skepticism. “Does it not taste right?”

  Eren glowered down at his plate. “The venison is too salty,” he whispered.

  Levi found Eren’s legs under the table and twisted them with his own, shoving a socked foot between Eren’s bare ones. He shrugged and took another bite, chewing slowly, tasting the full spectrum of the flavors. “Maybe a touch.”

  Eren deflated further, his shoulders slumping as he sighed. “See, I told you.”

  Levi didn’t know what to say. He’d barely noticed the slightly overeager use of salt in the dish. He’d had much worse. Despite having subsisted on some deplorable rubbish during many of his lifetimes, he still had a discerning palate. It was good, better than good. That would mean so little to tell Eren though. Even without knowing this incarnation for long, he was hardly varied from how he had been in the past. Doing anything to spoil Levi had always been taken with the utmost seriousness by Eren. Reassuring him over and over verbally the meal was delicious wouldn’t assuage his uncertainty.

  “We could put it on the bread,” Levi suggested. “It may help even it out.”

  Levi watched Eren hold his breath as he gently gnawed on his lip. “You think?” he asked.

  “I think this is delicious, so what do I know?” Levi lifted a brow, daring Eren to argue. “Might as well try it.”

  Eren’s face brightened as he spooned his meat onto his bread and took a bite. Levi watched the slow flex of his jaw as he chewed, Eren’s eyes flicking up to the ceiling as if it could write him a culinary review. He swallowed then smiled. “It’s better like this!”

  For how disappointed Eren had been at the beginning of dinner, they polished off everything he made. There was nothing to be saved, no savory onions or mushrooms even to put on their morning toast. When they had finished, they both sat back with full stomachs, neither moving to clean right away. Instead, Eren had wrapped his legs tighter around Levi’s and made him tell him how the rest of his day had gone.

  It reminded Levi of other lives, the quiet, familiar comfort of simplicity they always shared. Simple was always perfect with Eren. In lives filled with conflict, it was what they clung to so they would still feel human. What allowed them to survive without going mad. In others which were stable —like the last when they had lived on the coast of the East Sea— it was the knowledge that each other was enough. They lived plainly, delighting in silent moments sitting together, simple homes with gardens, good tea, and shared meals. It was time wrapped together in blankets before roaring fires, and watching the first leaves drop in autumn hand in hand. For Levi, it was Eren’s grins, his intensity and the silly notes he would leave for him on his desk. For both, Levi knew, it was their balance.

  “What are you thinking about?” Eren asked, reaching for Levi’s hand across the table.

  Levi looked down. His own hand seemed so small covered in Eren’s. “Doing the dishes.”

  Eren’s smile grew coquettish. He reached forward with his other hand, holding captive both of Levi’s with his own. “You like doing them with me.”

  Levi would have hidden behind his teacup if it wasn’t empty or if Eren’s thumbs weren’t rubbing adoring, little circles on his wrists.

  Eren’s grin widened. “You do.”

  Levi wished he could control the guache blush he could feel coming to his cheeks. “I’ll wash, you dry.”

  Eren squeezed Levi’s hands and stood. “I’ll start the kettle too.”

  

*****

  

   After tea, when the fire in the living room had died down, Levi had shepherded them to the bedroom early. It only was nearing ten, but Eren had been sinking deeper into the couch, leaning heavier against Levi’s arm. The previous night had been challenging, and Levi had gotten even less sleep than usual while he worried over and cared for Eren.

  Unlike the night before when he’d had to carry an unconscious Eren to bed, Eren had assisted with the fire and turning down the covers. The room was toasty, and they both had stripped down to their underwear, then snuggled under the blankets. Levi had smiled, noticing his handkerchief back on Eren’s bedside table as he made himself comfortable.

  Given Eren was so fatigued before they retired, Levi was expecting he would go right to sleep, but as Levi opened his book, he noticed Eren grasp the Elsa Webster volume he had brought from downstairs. Taking it was an afterthought, though Levi glanced at Eren with amused, mild interest as he relaxed into the soft fluff of the bed and opened the leather cover to the first page.

  They sat in silence for nearly an hour, the carding of pages and the crackle of the fire the only sounds in the room save for their breaths. When Levi was nearing the end of his current chapter, he found his lips tugging into a small smile. Eren was fidgeting, pulling the sheets with constant repositioning, his expressions bouncing from horrified shock to blushing smiles.

  Levi cleared his throat. Eren was covering his mouth, pulling his knees up, thumbing through the heart of the volume and shaking his head.

  “How’s your book?” Levi asked, turning a page in his own.

  Eren snapped his shut and stiffened. “A little slow.”

  Levi lifted a brow. “What did you find in the middle?”

  “I didn’t look…” Eren lied, swallowing deeply while he paused and looked down. “Alright, I did...there was…”

  “What was in it?” Levi asked, interested.

  “There was some kissing...and _things_...so many things…”

  Levi snorted. “Of course there was. Elsa Webster likes a good build up then she explodes like a cheap strumpet.” He slid a bookmark between two pages, closed his book, and set it on his nightstand. “What did you think?”

  Eren mirrored Levi’s movements and set his volume aside. “Didn’t do much for me.”

  “Oh,” said Levi, “maybe you’d like Dahlia’s recommendations better.”

  Eren turned his head, glaring at him with thinly veiled suspicion. “Why’s that?”

  “The books she likes are about men ‘kissing and things.’” Levi wasn’t ordinarily flirtatious, but perhaps he was steering the conversation a bit. After all, he had promised Eren something the night before. Of course, he would never consider reading such a book as foreplay, but watching Eren flush warmed Levi in ways he hadn’t experienced in a lifetime.

  Eren’s cheeks darkened. “Like the Eren and Levi books she was talking about?” he whispered, almost tripping over the words.

  Levi rolled his eyes. “Exactly like those.”

  “Maybe I’ll read one of those next.”

  “I don’t think you’ll make it through.”

  “I might,” Eren said.

  “They’re ridiculous,” Levi said. “Those bastards always make me taller.”

  Eren’s eyes widened before they narrowed. “That’s insulting!”

  “Perhaps short isn’t sexy,” said Levi, “or I’m not the ‘imposing Captain’ unless I’m over six feet tall.”

  “I don’t care if you’re short,” Eren said, smiling.

  “It gets worse.”

  “Should I even ask?”

  “Some refer to me as, ‘The Crow,’” Levi said, turning toward Eren, his expression stern. “Do I look like a bird?”

  “No.” Eren suppressed a laugh. “You look lovely even in my memories. I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

  “Sure about that?” Levi ran his thumb over the shell of Eren’s bright red ear, teasing a bit. “Our fictional sex lives are more… _experimental_ and exciting than reality has ever been.”

  Eren flushed darker as he dipped his head. “‘Experimental?’” he repeated.

  “Lubrication isn’t necessary in fiction.”

  Eren winced and planted his face in his hands, mumbling, “That’s terrible,” through his fingers. “That would hurt. Why would people write this shit? Why add it to a war story?”

  “It’s unsurprising,” Levi said, sobering. He pushed his hair from his forehead, hoping he hadn’t gone too far.

  “It surprises _me_ ,” Eren began, his voice rising, “it’s fucked up. People shouldn’t write that.”

  Eren was wearing a look of fiery indignation, seething beneath one of his more placid angry expressions. Levi could tell by the way his jaw flexed, how the vein in his neck throbbed under skin pulled tight.

  “It bothers you because it’s about us.” Levi gestured between them and crossed his legs under the blankets. It gave him a moment to choose his words. “It’s not so strange for people to soften the sharp edges and spice it up. The war was shitty. They need to add something that makes it more comfortable.”

  Maybe it was an understatement, possibly not even a correct assessment, though Levi couldn’t think of a better way to put it. If he had expressed it as he wanted Eren would be up ranting, clenching his fists, and pacing. Perhaps trying to organize an old-fashioned book burning. Instead, he was silent, picking lint from the quilt.

  Eren released a strained sigh and stared through the window. “Levi,” he started, “about the past, I have to tell you something.”

  Internal alarms rang in Levi’s head at Eren’s fragile tone. Though he relaxed his fingers where they had fisted the bedding. In the last two days, Levi had become more accustomed to his heart jumping and the rapid changes to its pace. He had a new system for handling it; one quiet, slow, deep breath, two smaller ones, then counting backward from five. “What is it?” he said.

  Eren hesitated. He swallowed hard enough Levi heard it before he ran his hands up his face and tugged roughly at the bun still tied atop his head. “I remembered something…during my nap today,” he whispered, knotting his fingers together in his lap. “It was shitty. I want to think it’s something I made up in a dream, but I know it’s not.”

  For how despondent Eren appeared, Levi surmised it was nothing pleasant. He had gone from high spirited to morose in less than a heartbeat. Levi didn’t need to enquire why Eren hadn’t said anything earlier. He had likely jumped into making dinner to lighten his own spirits and distract himself while he processed it, and Levi doubted he ever had the intention to keep it from him for long. “What did you see?”

  Eren laid down on his side and pulled Levi toward him like he had the night before when he’d awoken. Levi went easily, allowing himself to be hauled into his embrace, wrapping his arms around the tops of Eren’s and rubbing the back of his neck. The position was a bit strategic. Sometimes in the past, Eren liked to hide his face in Levi’s chest or shoulder when he talked of the horrors they grappled with, and when he was a teen during The Catalyst, he had moments when he’d thrash about. Levi could only hold Eren tight to protect him from himself until he settled and then finally gave in to his tears.

  “A lot of it’s a jumble,” Eren began, “some assholes betrayed us and took me. I thought they were my friends. Our comrades.” His eyes flicked to somewhere in the vicinity of Levi’s ear before it poured out. “I didn’t have any fucking hands. A lot of commotion...people dying because of me. Some giant bitch who ate my mom? Feeling like complete shit because this wasn’t the first time it happened. It happened before…” Eren paused and took a breath, pressing his cheek into the pillow. “Like that time you lost your squad? I don’t remember that, but I know it’s what happened because I remember remembering it.”

  “Eren,” Levi whispered, unsure of what to say yet.

  Eren looked at Levi, his eyes watery, questioning, overlaid by quiet fright.

  “Do you remember what I always told you then when you were upset?” Levi asked.

  “You mean before we were together? When I was still a stupid kid?”

  “You weren’t stupid,” Levi assured, working his fingers into Eren’s hair. “But, yes.”

  “That we never know the outcome?” asked Eren, sounding unsure if he was correct or not. “You have to make the choice you think you’ll regret less.”

  Levi nodded and stroked his fingers down Eren’s spine. “Do you remember that you finally listened?”

  “Not yet exactly, but there are vague memories like you’re whispering to me when I’m half asleep.” Eren swallowed, and Levi thought Eren would turn his gaze away. “Did I turn numb? Just stop caring?”

  Levi wasn’t sure how to explain the changes Eren had gone through from the time he was an angry, regretful fifteen years old to what he became as he grew into a man. Of course, it was war, and the deaths always cut them all in a place so deep no one could find the wounds to mend, but Eren had gained a steely acceptance in the intervening years after what he had just spoken of. There was darkness which descended over him as well. He had walled up part of his heart to save everyone else, offered himself up and crowned himself the sacrificial lamb. Levi had despised it. Not Eren, never Eren. But beneath his own forbearance, Levi had always cursed something beyond them for their lot in life. Especially Eren’s. How could he convey that all in only words?

  “In a way,” Levi finally whispered, “yes, you were numbed, but you didn’t stop caring. It was a shitty deal that we had.”

  Eren hid his face, rubbing it into Levi’s neck. “Then why can’t I be numb now?” He shuddered, taking sharp inhale through his nose and held his breath. When he released it, it was slow and trembling.

  Warm, moist air etched Levi’s skin with Eren’s despair. He stroked his fingers down Eren’s back again seeking to give comfort. _‘You can cry.’_ It was said without words against Eren’s stiffened body.

  Eren’s response wasn’t a deluge of tears, only him letting loose one choked sob then stilling as he quietly wept. Levi moved his thumb across the back of his neck, and rubbed down between Eren’s shoulder blades, listening to his breath. He was silent. Waiting to see what Eren would do next. There was one place an anguished Eren most often went. Levi wouldn’t push him into using physical intimacy to forget, though he wouldn’t deny him if he required it.

  “Make it go away,” Eren finally whimpered. He kissed Levi’s neck, then tilted his head back and brushed the fringe from Levi’s brow. “Please.”

  “What do you need?” Levi asked, already aware of what the answer would be.

  “Just you,” Eren said. “I don’t want to feel it. I only want to feel you.” His expression was earnest and imploring as he leaned in, touching Levi’s mouth with his own. Achingly delicate grazes as he pinched Levi’s lips between his.

  Levi could feel Eren’s yearning beyond his self-control as he brushed with perfect imperfection against his mouth, then his chin, his jaw, his neck, and back up again over and over. Levi’s chest twinged. Eren’s quivering lip was still cracked. To Levi, it felt like a physical manifestation of the wound in his heart, crying for Levi to heal it.

  He pressed little pecks against it, tasting a faint trace of copper, flowery tea, and salt when he soothed the abrasion with a soft stroke of his tongue.

  “Levi…” Eren said, his frame tensing as he stifled a sob.

  “Shh,” Levi whispered, holding Eren closer.

  Sometimes Eren needed the distraction. Levi touching him, taking care of him, fucking slowly into him while he ran feather-light, settling touches through his hair and held him close. Other times Eren needed to unfurl and unwind. Like he was disentangling himself from a tight and confusing knot. That’s when he was fast and frenzied. All over the place while he tried to fill all his senses with only Levi. Those were the times Levi found himself screwed into the mattress as Eren sucked rough bruises into his collarbones and neck. He could see both sides of Eren now, one desperate and raw, pinching and clinging. The other craving more of the caring touches Levi was laying on his skin.

  It didn’t take long before Eren was starved again, shaking off the swamping despair. He hissed into Levi’s mouth, whimpering and deepening their kiss anew as he clung tighter. He had always been like this at first. Fast and intense and messy. As if he wanted to do everything at once and could never figure out where to begin. Loud and unabashed as his hands wandered over Levi’s body, squeezing and pulling and pleading while he touched and kissed Levi everywhere he could reach.

  “I’ve wanted this,” Eren said, his voice hitching. He was holding himself back, vibrating with barely checked restraint. The long, unwrapped fingers of his left hand were impossibly soft when he skimmed them down Levi’s side. He kissed and nibbled, working his way up Levi’s neck to suck the sensitive spot beneath the edge of his jaw.

  Levi ground his teeth together, trapping his moan behind them. In the past, he wasn’t often loud in bed, but Eren’s attentions were testing his limits. Threatening to carry him away on a wave.

  Eren pulled back and looked at him when a moan slipped past. His big eyes were almost all black, ringed with crystalline green, drilling into Levi’s own. Eren’s fingers didn’t stop their exploration until they reached the waist of Levi’s drawers, and he teased the tip of his thumb beneath the edge. Wetting his lips, he looked at Levi. Begging, ravenous, wanting.

  Levi’s heart pounded. He couldn’t concentrate or control his breathless groan when he felt Eren’s fingers tense over his hip. Surging forward, Levi took Eren’s lips, his hands cradling his face as they lay on their sides. Eren pressed back, and Levi let go, his mouth and voice yielding to the persistent stroke of Eren’s tongue.

  There were indiscernible words mumbled between his lips as Eren shifted his hands. They tickled over Levi’s ribs, down his chest, his tightening stomach, lower, lower, and lower. Pausing before Eren’s careful fingers were unfastening Levi’s underclothes. Their eyes met, Eren’s expression dichotomously forlorn and lustful before he pushed the last tangible barrier Levi possessed down his legs. Levi moaned. The sheets felt like water rippling when they billowed back down over his exposed skin.

  Eren’s hands hovered close to Levi’s cock, though they wandered no further. Instead, he drew back and rested his injured hand on Levi’s waist, the other coming up to lay over Levi’s fingers where they traced his cheek. Reverent caresses over Levi’s knuckles which at once felt both heavy and light. Eren was beseeching, observing, maybe trying to match up the present and the past. Levi’s chest tensed, the blankets were too hot, and he tripped over the deep breath which tried force its way into his burning lungs. He rested his thumb over Eren’s lips. They were soft and pliant under his own when he leaned in and tasted him there.  

  Looking down at Eren’s flushed chest, Levi watched it rise and fall as he reached down, brushing over his heated skin with the backs of his fingers. Eren keened, whined for more as Levi traced his way lower. He halted at his navel when Eren cried out. Following its curve with his thumb beneath it, he met Eren’s gaze.

   _‘Please, please, please’_ was etched onto Eren’s face. It was in eyes which were somehow greener. Eren’s lips parted, and Levi watched his eyelids drop in slow-motion, heavy with barely checked yen. Eren began to tremble as Levi moved lower, raking fingers through the fine hairs below until he met the waist of his drawers.

  Drunk on his arousal, Eren murmured, “More...please more.”

  With quivering hands, Levi thumbed the buttons open one by one. Unhurried, repeating motions he knew, yet had never before experienced in this life. He could feel Eren hard below the tips of his fingers, hear him pant each time he rutted forward when they brushed him there. Levi sat back once they were unfastened, pulling the bedcovers away with a whoosh of breeze disturbing the hair at the back of his head. Eren rolled onto his back, twisting his hands in the sheets when Levi grasped his pants and pulled them free.

  He kneeled there. Eyes traveling over Eren. Treasuring his tanned skin, the gentle curve of the muscles in his stomach contracting with each labored breath, his cock laying on it, rigid, and flushed. He could remember the feel of the long legs he was appraising wrapped around his waist. The satisfying spark of pressure when Eren’s toes would curl and dig into his calves as he found his release.

  Levi hadn’t seen Eren like this yet. Not laid bare for him. He was stunned by his own desire, his fingers twitching on his thighs as he sought refuge in the last shard of his control. He wanted to touch, wanted no place left on Eren his warmth hadn’t seeped into. This began for Eren, but it wasn’t only for him anymore. Levi had spent too long adrift. Untouched, unseen, unloved. He needed confirmation as much as Eren needed comfort. Levi sought something he could only attain in Eren’s arms and against his skin.

  “Levi?” Eren asked. his voice quavering in anxious question.

  Eren was looking at him. Into him. Fearful and wanting at the same time. Levi knew what he was asking. _‘Do you like me how I am now?’ ‘Am I the same?’ ‘Am I still good enough?’ ‘Do you still want me?’_

  Levi didn’t understand why he could never verbalize reassurances for Eren the way he would like to. Why the sentiments swirling in his mind barely found their way to his mouth. And when they did, they were never eloquent. All he could think in return was _‘beautiful,’ ‘perfect,’ ‘let me look at you,’ ‘my Eren.’_ And yet he was motionless, taking in deep breaths of smoky, burning wood, and Eren’s rousing scent, then running his suddenly too thick tongue over the roof of his mouth, scrambling for words.

  “You’re how I…” He slid his hand forward, threading their fingers together, pressing his palm against Eren’s larger one. His mouth curved as he found something. Some small piece which conveyed a fraction of what was in his heart. “How I remember,” Levi said, squeezing Eren’s fingers where they rested between his own.

  Eren’s eyes glinted behind the water gathering in them. He looked at Levi like he could swallow him whole. Then he was up and wrapping his arms around Levi with such ferocity it was dizzying. Their lips crashed together as they fell. Eren turned them, pressing Levi into the mattress, settling his body between his spread thighs. The sheet against Levi’s back felt somehow softer, frosty and chilled where his blistering skin met it. Eren kissed him hard and sloppy. Wet, frantic bites to Levi’s lips. His tongue licking deep into his mouth everywhere. Eren didn’t need to say it. Didn’t need to assure Levi he remembered him. He didn’t need to say he wanted to see if it felt the same.

  When Eren shifted, sliding their cocks together with a roll of his hips, Levi broke away, the mattress creaking beneath them. Two nights ago, even the barest touch from Eren could have Levi tensing, jumping out of his skin at the newness of the sensation. It was so much at once, his muscles pulling taut against his need to melt. But now, they were in bed, naked, molded tightly together, every touch from Eren’s fingers and mouth painted trails on his skin which didn’t fade, and Levi wanted more.

  Eren looked at him, his confident, impassioned expression falling, his eyes crinkling with barely masked doubt and self-consciousness.

 _‘You’re fine. I only want to remember you,’_ Levi wanted to say. Instead, he brushed their lips together in an assuaging kiss, looping his arms around Eren’s shoulders as their eyes met. Levi could feel Eren’s gaze track his as he peered at his neck, his hand moving to glide over Eren’s pulse. His skin prickled on his nape as he rested it there, feeling it quicken and drum under his touch. Both his hands wandered lower, mirroring each other as he ran his palms over Eren’s collar bones, shoulders, down over his biceps where he squeezed. Levi inclined his head, following with kisses, his lips confirming everything his fingers had relayed. When he looked back up at Eren, his eyes were closed. He watched him suck his lip captive between his teeth when he stroked over his ribs, around to his broad back then pulled them flush.

  He felt Eren nuzzle against his cheek, lips traveling until he found Levi’s again. His kisses were slower, searching, their tongues gliding together with fervent strokes.

   Levi’s body blazed from the inside out, an inferno burning him to ash. The desire for the physical intimacy he didn’t think he could yet stand consuming him as he surrendered to it. He could feel the last shred Eren’s restraint under the surface of his hunger. His legs tensing where they were nestled between Levi’s as he put up a desperate fight to keep them still. Like riptides beneath the motionless veneer of calm, glass-surfaced seas.

  “Eren,” Levi breathed against his chin, the unspoken _‘you can let go’_ conveyed with an upward snap of his hips.

  Eren pressed his forehead against Levi’s, shifting until their cocks slid side by side. It was like lightning through Levi’s limbs, his back bowing as tension curled deep in his belly.

  Eren was watching him, invading him with open inviting eyes. “Levi, Levi, Levi, Levi,” he uttered, mouthing across Levi’s cheek. A broken stream Levi could feel against his skin as much he could hear it fluttering in his ear. Eren’s fingers uncurled from where they had dug into his arms, shifting to his shoulders as Levi gripped his lower back.

  Their movements were unrefined, quick, and unbridled. The rhythm stuttering with the clumsy rutting of the inexperienced and too overwrought as they rocked together, cloistered in each other’s arms.

  It didn’t take long. Eren spilled himself first with a tremulous sound dug up from low in his chest. It was close to a growl, vibrating through Levi’s skin and snapping in his groin. He suppressed the cry which tore in his throat. A discordant whine making it beyond teeth locked tight into the expanse of the bedroom. He clamped his arms around Eren as if he could him pull inside, and pressed his face into the inviting nook where Eren’s shoulder met his neck. He could feel their hearts pounding against each other, the blood pulsing through his body so fast it thrummed in his eyes.

  They lay breathless, Eren huffing against him as his tongue flicked out to taste him. Levi blinked his eyes open to the firelight and strands of Eren’s hair draped over his face. He brushed them away, kneading his fingers against Eren’s scalp. Turning his face, he nudged his nose against Eren’s cheek.

  Eren blinked at him. He seemed lighter. As if the burdensome shroud which obscured him throughout the last day had been flung into the hearth in the corner of the room.

  “You’re smiling,” Levi said, lifting his chin.

  “So are you,” Eren whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed back is oh so loved and appreciated. <3


	14. Chapter 14

  Levi scowled, placing a handful of newsprint scraps in the caddy next to the bathroom sink. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes hunkered over the kitchen table meticulously snipping yesterday’s edition of The Daily Trost into strips of toilet paper. Not his favorite of morning activities, but Levi wasn’t an ill-mannered swine, and it would be unkind to leave Eren with only one piece.

  For a brief moment, he ignored his fingertips covered with oily ink, his gaze falling to the top sheet. The corners of his mouth twitched. It was a good portion of a particularly vicious article from the gossip section. Eren would be glad for the honor to defile it once he was awake.

  He scrubbed his hands clean, sighing before he turned his attention toward morning tea, peering into the bedroom on the way to the kitchen. It was a wonder Eren was still asleep. The sun was intense, cutting sharp yellow-white lines across his face. He was snoring, sprawled out on the mattress with his right leg hanging off the side. Levi hadn’t been up long, but since he crawled from under the blankets, Eren had taken over most of the bed, somehow managing to twist himself up in the quilt.

  Levi shook his head. Eren could make the bed today.  

  Going through his usual motions, he readied the stove and set the kettle on it. The weekend had been exhausting. Emotionally trying. This was the first recent morning which felt plain, almost dull. No nightmares thrusting them awake, no coma-like states leaving Levi to fret over an unresponsive Eren. No morning panic.

  He relished the normalcy. The banality of selecting the day’s first brew, reaching on tiptoes for his teapot on the shelf–which was always a tad too high–then folding the tea towel into a neat square before he cut slices of rich, brown bread and set them into a pan to toast.

  Taking a deep sniff of sizzling butter, he leaned over the counter, watching fluttering birds outside beat fragile wings. They lined up on the window ledge, chirping their quiet approval of his humdrum morning.

  The gloomy clouds had parted for the first time in days. Even through the winter begrimed glass, the street down below looked like it was awakening from a long, dreary slumber, ushering regularity and routine with Eren back into Levi’s life. He wanted tea and toast, and to see Eren as he used to. With mussed hair and a sleepy face as he wandered past the threshold of the bedroom.

  He was pouring his first cup when he heard Eren’s drowsy footsteps dragging across the floor, stopping when he came to hover behind him. “Morning,” Levi said, preparing a second serving.

  Eren wasn’t touching him, but he could feel his warmth. His presence buzzing at the edges, see Eren’s shadow stretched across the countertop when he ran his fingers through his hair as he stood at Levi’s back. Eren’s arms curled around Levi’s waist as he set the pot down. Long limbs ensconcing them both in a soft, sleep-warmed blanket. The one Levi had laid over Eren as he cared for him while he was unconscious. Eren had barely relinquished it since.

  “G’morning.” Pulling Levi flush against his chest, Eren kissed the top of his head. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” His voice was groggy and low, hoarse from sleep.

  Levi found Eren’s hands with his own, dragging in a deep breath as he closed his eyes. He didn’t say it was because the intimacy they shared the night before had left him on the brink of falling to pieces. That it had nearly drowned him when they had returned to bed, and Eren pressed their foreheads together. How in Eren’s eyes Levi could see love and devotion so piercing he mourned and almost cried for the time it was lost to him. He had hidden his face in the crook of Eren’s neck while Eren traced his spine. Eren’s rough lips murmuring ‘I love you’s’ against his cheek while he enfolded Levi in his arms and Levi waited to break.

  The scar in Levi’s heart still hurt after too many years yearning for who was holding him. It always came at unexpected times. Not so much when they had been in each other’s arms, writhing against one another, or even during the slow and searching kisses before that. It was the aftermath. Later when Eren clung to him like he was something precious. That was what unraveled him.

  He closed his eyes, leaning into Eren, rubbing back of his head against his shoulder and whispered, “You were tangled in the blankets. I didn’t want to dig for you.”

 “I made a mess of them,” Eren said and huffed, the heat of his breath teasing the shell of Levi’s ear.

  Levi wanted to tilt his head, offer Eren his neck. Instead, he turned in his arms, pressing a kiss to his stubbly chin before he stepped back, then nudged a teacup into his hand. “Dreams?”

  Eren shrugged. “I’m getting used to them.” He smoothed out a lock of Levi’s hair. “Need help with breakfast?”

  “Already toasting.”

  Eren released him and shuffled to his seat at the table. “Black tea?” he asked, pulling in a deep inhale of steam rising from his cup. He tilted his head. “There’s something else too.”

  “Rosehips.” Joining him, Levi said, “The flavor goes with the day.”

  Eren smiled at Levi, his brow rising a touch. He stretched back in the chair, and rubbed his eyes, sliding his legs out to twine with Levi’s. “Did the morning paper arrive?”

  “No,” Levi said, frowning. “I read yesterday’s editorial for a second time during my morning shit.”

  “That little meanie!” Eren groaned into his cup. “The editorial was terrible. You should have reread the gossip section instead.”

  “It would have been more appropriate for the toilet.” Levi paused to sip his tea. “Though, it’s waiting to be flushed away as we speak. I cut it up this morning.”

  Eren made a sound of irritation. “What am I supposed to read then?”

  A corner of Levi’s lip rose. “You could always read the scraps then wipe your ass with them.”

  “This is becoming a problem.” Eren moved to flip the bread in the pan, readjusting the blanket around his shoulders before he returned to his seat.

  “There was little choice. Yesterday’s paper was the only issue left not soiled by puddle water.” Levi paused as his brows drew together. “If that urchin doesn’t start delivering properly, we’re going to need to buy rolls of paper.”

  Shuddering, Eren whined, “They leave splinters.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “When you were busy destroying it,” Eren started, looking at Levi with a smirk, “did you see, Digby Griffon is marrying a stone mason’s daughter? The elites are in an uproar.”

  “Serves them right,” said Levi, “they’re pretentious snobs.”

  Eren glanced at the window, quiet, looking contemplative as he watched the birds swoop back to the sill. “It’s good they’re doing it,” he began, “no matter what those assholes think...I hope they’ll be happy.”

  Levi tried to look past Eren into the living room. Eren was leaning over the edge of the table, holding his chin against his palm, regarding Levi with his stupidly expressive eyes. Only Eren could go right from a discussion of the best reading material for a trip to the loo to staring at someone smitten. Gazing at Levi so besotted and struck. Like Levi was the most beautiful person to ever exist.

  Levi looked down in his cup. He pinched a stray tea leaf between his thumb and finger then scraped it on the edge of the saucer. Clearing his throat, he scratched his chin. “What are your plans for today?”

  “Oh,” Eren said, “I thought I’d run to the bakery this morning.”

  “We need cookies.”

  “I want to catch Dahlia before she runs out to do whatever it is she does after the morning rush.” Eren paused, tracing his fingertips across the tabletop. “You know I can’t spend my time lazing around here waiting for memories.”

  “No,” said Levi. “But you wouldn’t like a few more days?”

  Eren shook his head. “I need to do something.”

  “There’s not much work downstairs,” Levi said, rising to fetch the toast. “There’s honey and a bit of blackberry jam.”

  “Jam,” Eren said, adding, “butter too, please.”

  “I thought,” Levi started as he set the food on the table and sat back down, “I could close the shop for a long lunch today.”

  “Why?”

  “You need pants.”

  “Nothing expensive.” Eren crunched on his slice of toast, dropping crumbs on the table and missing his plate. “I could do some laundry too.”

  Levi swallowed a sigh. “Agreed on both accounts.”

  Eren didn’t need much, perhaps a couple pairs of decent slacks, and a shirt or two. He was trying for a job in a bakery, not dressing for a night at the opera. Levi wasn’t sure how much money Eren had to his name. He never asked. Though, he knew where his apartment was. A rundown, rented room complete with what Eren had described as ‘shitty furniture and an even shittier bed.’

  Eren poked Levi’s ankle with his foot. “It makes sense, I know. But I’ve mostly taken care of myself since I was sixteen.”

  “Don’t think you’re a burden.” Levi had never been one for expensive or lavish tokens. However, clothing purchases were a matter of practicality.

  “I-” Eren cut himself off. “I am.”

  “You always think it.”

  “I’ve been a pain in your ass since you met me again.”

  Crossing his arms, Levi leaned against the back of his chair. “That’s a load of horseshit.”

  “But look what I’ve done,” Eren said, grimacing. “The memories, that scene in the museum, I got sick...and bled all over my good trousers...I worried you.”

  The bite of toast Levi was swallowing suddenly felt too dry in his throat. “I’ve got some vinegar and good powdered soap,” he said. “We can try scrubbing it out.”

  Eren’s head sunk. “They were my favorite.”

  “Mine too.”

  “You liked them on me?” Eren’s fingers went tight around Levi’s when he took his hand.

  Nodding, Levi brushed his thumb over Eren’s wrist.

  Eren was quiet. He looked like a pouting child who couldn’t help smiling when someone stuck a dessert down in front of him. “This feels so normal.”

  “Stopping you from fretting about pants?”

  “No…well that too,” Eren said, “but I mean this. Waking up, breakfast...sitting together. It’s my favorite time of day.”

  Levi hid his smile behind a sip of tea. “Evening is my favorite.” He thought of Eren in the firelight. Eren with his head on his lap. Combing his fingers through Eren’s silky hair. Enamored eyes watching him. The crinkles in their corners when Eren smiled and reached up to touch his cheek. They made him look older than he was. Centuries of wisdom and torment carved into a face so young.

  Levi closed his own eyes against the thought, recalling the tugging warmth of falling asleep with Eren curled around him.

  “It feels like we’ve been doing this every day for years,” Eren said.

  Levi rearranged the food on his plate. Breakfast was lonely until only three days before. “In a way,” Levi said, “we have been doing this for years.”

  “I knew I couldn’t stay away from you,” Eren whispered.

  Levi’s free hand traced over the never-used handle of his teacup. “You tried?”

  Eren nodded and spread more butter on his bread. The piece hovered near his mouth between his fingers when he finished. “After the first time. Before I left you the note.” He took a bite, chewing quickly. “I was so disappointed when the shop was closed, but I had to leave town. Then when I came back, I thought you’d think I was crazy for leaving it, so I stayed away.”

  If Eren only knew why he was late opening that day. “I didn’t think you were crazy.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know everything then.”

  “Are you mad about that?”

  “Hm,” Eren hummed. “Makes me feel stupid, I guess.” He shrugged. “I understand why you didn’t tell me who we were. Why you were afraid I would run away. ”

  “Sorry,” Levi said. His throat felt tight. “That doesn’t make you stupid.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Eren said. “It’s more, I feel dumb that I didn’t figure it out.”

  “But who would have thought it?”

  “I don’t know,” Eren admitted. “Being with you feels like home. I’m not sure how I missed it.”

  “Your sense of it brought you all the way to here,” Levi said. “That’s nothing to feel dumb about.”

  “Before...I didn’t belong where I was,” Eren said. “The first time I came to the bookstore was like I woke up.” Eren leaned forward over the table and looked at Levi. “Is that why you broke the teacup the first time I came in? Was it because of me?”

  Levi took a sharp breath. “I saw you crossing the street earlier that day.”

  “I wish I knew how this worked. Or why.” Eren was wearing one of those mildly determined expressions he was so good at. It was mixed with something else. Perhaps melancholy, or wistfulness. In the past, he never had enough information to be more than angry on Levi’s behalf. Though he romanticized the cycle as well. Spinning it into tales of soulmates destined for each other.

  Levi didn’t doubt they were bonded, but the theories he’d read over the years in books about reincarnation presented the idea as if they were two halves created to be together. He had no evidence of this, and it never sat right when Levi thought of himself and Eren that way. He didn’t like the idea of the choice being taken from them. But it was more than only that, something more profound. It went along with the feeling that some portions of his memories were missing. There were still too many questions.

  Why only a couple thousand years? Where or who were they before that? Did they both just pop into existence then? What happened before?

  “I’ve tried to figure it out,” Levi said, pulling his eyes away from his half-eaten breakfast and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve looked through everything I can find. It’s why I own a bookshop.”

  “And what does it all say?”

  Levi waved his hand and sipped his tea. “Bullshit theories, more bullshit, some crap about having to learn something, but nothing that explains why I began to remember and you don’t.”

  “What about the other shit you have? There must be something.”

  “What shit?”

  “What’s buried under the tree.”

  Levi’s stomach clenched at Eren mentioning it. The museum had been bad enough. He didn’t know what Eren would do if he saw what was hidden in the ground. His drawings and journals were one thing, but the trunk was filled with items they had owned. Their 3DMG, a cloak, a lock of Eren’s hair, and diaries Eren had written for his future incarnations. There were letters sent between them and much from The Catalyst. Items Levi had stolen from various museums in his first life after it. There was also an extensive history mapped out of their lives. Relations, times, and dates. It was like a vast spider web.

  The thought of it sat like a prowler in the back of Levi’s head. It had been niggling since he showed Eren the studio. Some voice attempting to impress its importance on him. Still, after Eren’s recent episode, he was remiss to take him there just yet.

  “I think we should wait on that?”

  “Why?” Eren asked, his voice rising.

  “Because we don’t know what will happen.” He gestured at Eren’s hand. “Next time you might do more than break a couple fingers.”

  Eren glared at the bandage. “Fine,” he conceded, frowning. “But we have to go eventually. Maybe it will tell us something.”

  “I don’t see what it could,” Levi said. “It never has before.”

  Levi watched as Eren’s jaw flexed, the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed. His eyes went dark. They flashed with discontent. Turbulent in his frustration before he took a breath, and blinked it away as he gently deflated. “I don’t know why, but I think we should go,” he said. “My feelings haven’t been wrong yet.”

  He sounded so much how he did during the Catalyst. Tempestuous, fierce, unwavering. Levi could try to explain it. Tell Eren even if he was correct, and had been in the past, that sometimes there could be consequences for his actions which weren’t worth the gain. But to do so, Levi would have to run down a list of what decisions in hindsight weren’t always the best. It would undoubtedly wound him.

  If this life—like so many others—would be filled with strife, Levi wanted to savor the calm before it crashed around them. Maybe they wouldn’t be battling titans or caught in a war, but Levi didn’t know where Eren’s memories would lead them. If he recalled enough, he could become as he was for a time during The Catalyst. Not sure who he was, or whose memories were flooding his mind. His personality—Eren—had become divided. He eventually overcame it, but what if it didn’t happen this time? The combination of the memories of lives along with all those who had held the titans he controlled mixed with them felt like folly.

  “It’s fine,” Eren grit out, cutting through Levi’s silence. “We don’t need to do it now.”

  “I didn’t say never.”

  “I’ll wait,” Eren said. “I don’t want to scare you. I know I did on Sunday.”

  Levi nodded, refusing to admit it out loud. He didn't need to. “Let that heal up first,” he said, flicking his eyes toward Eren’s wrapped hand. “Just a little more guaranteed peace.”

  Biting his lip, Eren groaned and made a dramatic show as he hid his face in his arm. He stayed like that only for a few moments before he looked at Levi. Smiling, he reached out, running the tips of his fingers over the downy hairs on Levi’s forearm.

  Levi smiled back, relaxing at the tender, tickling sensation. He forgot how agreeable Eren could sometimes be.

  “We’ll put it off,” Eren whispered. “But I’m not going to drop it forever.”

  Sighing, Levi said, “I know.”

 

 *****

 

  When Eren returned from Dahlia’s, it was nearing lunch. His cheeks were dimpled as he came inside, set a box cookies on the counter, then retreated to slide lazily into Levi’s leather chair like he owned it. He looked at Levi, his expression beaming with poorly hidden pride.

  “She hired you,” Levi said.

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “You give yourself away with that smirk.”

  “I can start tomorrow.” Eren twisted his hair up and draped a leg over the arm of the chair. “I assured her we were going to the tailor so I’d have something better to wear.” He pursed his lips tight, rubbing his fingers over a threadbare spot on his knee. “She offered me some hand me downs from her nephew, Eldritch. He’s tall like me, but got fat from spending too much time in the bakery eating pies.”

  “So we’re back to me not being allowed to buy your pants then?”

  Eren shook his head and met Levi’s eyes. “You can. I’ll have a few extras now.” He looked pensive for a moment. “It was nice. Dahlia’s a good lady.”

  “She’s very fond of you.”

  “She’s fond of you too.”

  Levi smirked, took the money from the register, and stowed it in the safe. “Between the two of us, you’re her favorite.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “She enjoys her meddling visits here, but I’m not a surrogate grandson.”

  “I’m not that,” Eren said as he stood, “but I like having friends again.” His expression fell for a moment, rebounding as he watched Levi put on his coat, then lock the door, and turn the sign.

  Outside, there was no brutal chill. There wasn’t much warmth to be found in winter, but the sun was at its zenith, battling the bitterness of the town. Eren didn’t take Levi’s hand. Instead, he knocked their knuckles together, giving Levi a knowing little smile as they set out.

  “This way,” Levi said, leading Eren west toward the tailor shop.

  They wound their way through the district, crossing the cobbled streets, dodging drips from the gutters, weaving past piles of gritty slush and melting snow. Eren stayed close to Levi’s side, whispering a teasing, “Careful,” as they stepped over an icy patch.

  “Shut up,” Levi said under his breath, pulling his shoulders up as he glanced down to watch his feet.

   As always, Eren’s attentions were drawn by food. The cart filled with root vegetables they’d passed when they first left, the sweets shop displaying lavish chocolate treats and spun sugar wrapped around wooden sticks. Then there was Oswin’s butcher shop, its window lined with sausages and dressed meats; carved, cleaned, and ready for cooking.

  Eren nudged Levi, his lips curving like a bow. “Those rabbits look meaty,” he said, pointing at the shop’s window front.

  When Levi looked forward, he noted a tall, thin man lingering at the store’s corner. His focus sharpened, watching the tails of his dark coat snap in the wind, revealing boots caked in grime.

  Levi didn’t remove his narrowing eyes from him as they drew closer. He ground his teeth when the man tipped his black hat and sidled barely against the brick building’s side. The stranger made a show of getting out of their way before pivoting back into Eren’s path at the last moment.

  His lips drew into a sinister grin as he and Eren’s shoulders knocked together.

  “Hey, asshole,” Eren snarled as he stumbled past him. He turned his head in the man’s direction. “Watch it!”

  Grasping Eren’s bicep, Levi tugged him along. “Forget him,” he said, forcing the words.

  “My apologies,” the man called.

  Levi cursed under his breath, his fingers tensing involuntarily around Eren’s arm.

  “What’s wrong?” Eren asked. “It’s just some cocksucker.”

  “Hm.” Levi shoved his hands in his pockets. “He looks familiar.”

  “He’s probably been to the store.”

  “No.” The stiff handle of the knife wedged in Levi’s boot pressed insistently against his leg.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t forget customers’ faces, but I’ve seen him before.”

  “That happens to me all the time around here,” Eren said. “Especially when I’m down by all the shops. The town isn’t as big as it seems.”

  “I suppose,” Levi said, stepping over a pile of snow. “But if he does that on the way home, I’ll punt his face down the alleyway.”

  Eren laughed. “I’ll help.”

  “Moron,” Levi said. “You’ve got a busted hand.”

  “I can still fight.”

  “I bet you're sloppy.” Levi didn’t need a demonstration to know. Eren always fought the same way he fucked. All of himself out there, barely contained and fueled by emotions he never bothered to conceal. He was a fearsome beauty in both his passion and his rage.   

  “Yeah,” said Eren, coy, “but you could show me. It’ll be fun.”

  Levi gave Eren a faint smile. He knew what kind of ‘fun’ Eren had in mind. Where Levi’s well-intentioned lessons and their subsequent grappling had the tendency to lead. Horny brat.

  Regardless of Eren’s flirtatiousness, the menacing stranger remained planted in Levi’s mind. There was something overly familiar about the man, like the memory of someone conjured in a dream.

  Squeezing his eyes tight, Levi struggled for a recollection. Perhaps he was just a drunk, and Levi’s feeling of unease didn’t mean anything at all. He could have been someone he ran into at one time or another while shopping or had seen pass by the shop through the window.

  Even with an urge to turn his head and check behind them, Levi didn’t do more than glance back toward the corner when they arrived at the tailor shop, finding the man had retreated.

  “Here?” Eren asked as they stepped under a striped awning and Levi came to a halt.

  Levi sent the thoughts of the strange man from his mind after one last look over his shoulder. “You should find something you like here.” He tugged door open and held it for Eren. “Maybe Duncan has pants similar to your others.”

  Eren’s head was already on a swivel as they stepped into the shop. Duncan's was the same as it was the last time Levi was in. Too many racks of men's clothes stuffed into the cramped main floor. Suits and coats hung almost to the shiny, copper ceiling. Like towers of artfully draped fabric. Levi inhaled as he pulled his hands from his pockets. There was the faint smell of dust, but it was overshadowed by the scent of dyes, wool, lavender, and spicy cedar.

  “Levi!” a slight man welcomed from where he was pressing shirts. He ran a hand over his bald head. “It’s been too long.”

  “Duncan,” Levi said. “We need some things.”

  Duncan slipped a tape measure over his neck, approaching the front. “This must be Eren?” he said, rubbing his hands together.

  Eren’s scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing as his mouth fell open then promptly shut.

  Levi barely prevented himself from sighing. “He is.”

  Eren moved to shake Duncan’s hand. “I guess everyone knows who I am.” He looked taken aback. Strikingly flustered as he shifted his weight to the toes of his boots then rocked back.

  “We’ll have to thank Dahlia for that,” Levi said.

  Duncan laughed and twisted the curls of his dark mustache. “This can’t come as a surprise to you.”

  “I was hoping for some restraint.”

  “Come now. Not with your names.” Duncan eyed Levi then gazed up at Eren and grinned. “Another Eren and Levi, and so soon after Remembrance Day. It’s exciting news for the town.”

  “So it seems,” Levi said.

  “Not to mention, we thought you would never find someone.”

  Levi’s eyelid twitched. He envisioned the pub regulars leaning over the bar top, discussing what they must have assumed was his pathetic love life between gulps of ale. Then the little old ladies huddled over their quilts, speaking in hushed tones, eating crumpets and secretly pitying him. He crossed his arms. “It wasn’t a priority.”

  “Good it wasn’t, or you may not have met Eren, here,” said Duncan. “The town’s been depressed in recent months with the harsh winter. Now there’s some news to rejoice in.”

  “It’s not all that exciting,” Eren said, rubbing at his temples. “People should mind their own business.”

  “Can’t say I disagree,” Duncan started, “seems to go against their nature though.”

  Eren groaned. “It’s all people were talking about at the bakery this morning.”

  “Huh?” Levi said.

  “I was lucky to escape. Everyone wanted to meet me because of our names.” Eren scraped his teeth across his lip, his eyes shifting between Duncan and Levi. “They said we should be in next year’s parade.”

  “I’ll eat a papier-mache titan before that happens.” Levi had been expecting whispers of gossip when customers came to the store, or when he went out to shop. Maybe some squealing and fawning, but not this. “I’m not looking forward to grocery shopping.” There was a sour taste in the back of Levi’s throat. He’d be damned if anyone thought he’d be in a fucking parade.

  He hadn’t enjoyed being watched during The Catalyst. Saddled on his horse as the SC departed or returned through the gate. Whether it was admirers there for exaltation, or those there to hurl insults and denigrate the corps made no difference. He hated the way their eyes fixed upon him, glued to his form. Shutting his own eyes against the onlookers never shucked away the feeling. He could feel their gazes crawling over his skin. Like they were trying to pierce it and eat away at his insides.

  “I can’t say I don’t feel for you two,” Duncan said, a deep exhale whistling through his crooked teeth. “Trost isn’t interesting when you really look at it. There’s not much for folks to talk about.”

  “That’s a piss poor excuse, you know,” Eren said. “There’s other shit to do than talk about people.”

  “I can’t argue with that either,” Duncan said. “Unfortunately, it’s the state of this place.”

  The air felt soupy, thick with the undertow of the town folks’ murmurs and presumptions. No doubt wild theories were exchanged which then became half-truths and then reality to those trading whispered notions about the both of them. Levi didn’t care what they thought, but he didn’t want to be bothered about it either.

  Coughing drily, Duncan folded his hands before him. “If I may,” he began, “I know you keep to yourself, Levi, but there isn’t malice in all the talk.”

  “Maybe it will die down soon,” Eren added.

  Levi crossed his arms. “It hasn’t reached its peak.”

  “No, definitely not,” said Duncan, “but gossip dies off here as soon as there’s something new to talk about.”

  Levi noticed Eren biting his lip again, the uncomfortable twitch of his hands as he wrung them. He wanted to grab him, go home, and clean something together. Anything other than lingering in public under the scrutinous eye of whoever came to Duncan’s for a new shirt or pair of slacks.

  His imagination ran away for a moment, envisioning himself and Eren in the flat checking for cobwebs in the corners and dust bunnies under the couch. When they were finished burning elbow grease, they could have dinner and sit by the fire. Perhaps Levi could pull out his whiskey and spike their evening tea, or maybe they could take a bath. Though instead of turning on his heel, he looked at Eren, then nodded at Duncan and said, “True enough.”

  Duncan appraised them both and sighed. “I’m sure things have been irritating,” he said, “there’s no reason for me to make it any worse.” He smiled wanly between Levi and Eren and patted the pockets on his vest. “I may be a tailor, but I’m not one for the sewing circle.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “I’ll keep your visit here between us.”

  “Thanks,” Eren said.

  “I would imagine, you’re here for clothes,” said Duncan, “Is there anything particular you fancy today?”

  “Eren needs some new pants,” Levi said, readying himself for Eren’s hemming and hawing. “A couple shirts too.”

  Eren continued fiddling with his hands and added, “Nothing too pricey. I can find something off the racks.”

  Duncan looked Eren up and down, the bob of his head exaggerating Eren’s height. He pressed his knuckle to his chin. “The racks should suit fine, but you have long arms and legs, a trim waist and broad shoulders. It won’t be anything too difficult, but I’ll need to take most things in, Son.”

  “I’m sure I can make it work,” Eren said.

  Levi rolled his eyes. “You can put up with some altering if needed.”

  “I have a belt and suspenders.”

  “It’s no imposition, Lad,” Duncan called over his shoulder as he walked to the back room, adding, “I have to custom make most of Levi’s clothes.”

  Eren snorted. His eyes twinkling at Levi with hopelessly enamored mirth. “That’s because you’re little and compact.”

  “Not too ‘little’ to break you in half.”

  “That sounds like fun too,” Eren said, leering at him.

  “Jackass.” Levi poked him in the side. “Get to it.”

  “I’m going.” Eren looked far too mischievous for his own good before he disappeared between the racks of trousers.

  Levi didn’t follow. It was one thing to buy the clothes, but Eren wouldn’t abide him hovering around him as he browsed. Instead, Levi perused the shirts. He’d whittled his way through a few in recent months. Dirtying the cuffs with charcoal dust that stubbornly refused to come clean.

  “I can make that in your size,” Duncan called as Levi examined a light blue button down. “I have something that might be close, but it could be beyond my ability to alter.”

  “‘Close?’ That’s surprising,” Levi said.

  “I have a few other customers of your stature.”

  Lifting a brow, Levi said, “All these years, and you’re still a poor liar.”

  Duncan snorted. “They’re short and chubby. It would perhaps work in the arms, but not in the waist or neck. Let me fetch one, and we’ll see.”

  Levi kept an eye on the street outside as he waited. Trying on the shirt was pointless. Though they went through the motions every few years. Duncan would insist he had something he could alter only to give up and admit he’d have to sew Levi’s clothing from anew. Levi scratched at his undercut. He wasn’t sure why they played this game. Perhaps it was Duncan trying to be polite. Or maybe Levi had enjoyed the extra conversation between two people who spent most of their time lonely, running their shops.

  “Oh shit!” Levi heard Eren hiss from the corner. He turned to see him gathering up a stack of hats he’d knocked over. Choking on a snicker, he watched Eren trying his best to put them right then turned his attention back to the street outside.

  Even with the calming ambiance of Duncan’s shop and Eren’s clumsy antics, Levi was still rattled. Something menacing was in the air, leaving a tingle through his extremities. A brush of pins and needles washing over him then retreating as quickly as they appeared.

  He hadn’t brought enough knives. There was only the one he carried in his boot and a small folding knife in his pocket. He wasn’t even sure if Eren had any.

  For the first time in lifetimes, he felt the same sense of nudity he did during The Catalyst when he wasn’t wearing his gear.

  It was a fleeting sentiment which came upon him at times. Pointless in this life, but he craved the security of his blades and harness once again. Sometimes in that terrible incarnation, Levi had slept with it on. Sitting in his leather chair, or finally succumbing to exhaustion hunched over paperwork at his desk.

  He could see a nineteen-year-old Eren of the past tugging on the straps and buckles. Eren had barely worn his uniform then, but when they were safe, he’d poke and pull at Levi’s gear until he relented and accepted assistance removing it. Afterward, Eren would strip them both of everything else and wrap them in blankets.

  More times than not Eren wanted nothing more than to hold Levi skin to skin as they fell asleep. Finding little rest, Levi often stayed up, watching Eren find the peace in slumber which never came when he was awake. A sentry, ready to guard Eren against his nightmares and despair.

  He scratched at his jaw with his fingernails, the sting drawing his focus back to the present. Eren had moved on to the racks of work pants, checking the price tags then abandoning one pair to the next and shaking his head.

  Levi smiled and shook his head too.

  “Levi,” Duncan said, poking his shoulder.

  Still reminiscing, Levi almost started but turned to see Duncan holding a dress shirt.

  “This should give me an idea,” Duncan said. “Do you want to try it on? See if I can make adjustments or if we’ll need to begin from scratch.”

  Levi shrugged. “We have time.”

  He moved to the changing area, glancing at Eren as he pulled the curtain aside and stepped in. He smiled behind the security of the heavy drapes. Eren had been worrying his lip again, testing the texture of a pair of striped pants not unlike the ones he had stained.

  As Levi began to take off his coat, he caught the faint notes of Eren humming from the other side of the store.

  His heart twisted. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip until it hurt enough his eyes burned. It was a tune Levi recognized from a previous life.

  Not the Catalyst or any which were recent. Pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, he sucked in a sharp breath. The song was from a lifetime Eren had never mentioned recalling. The tune was forlorn. Woeful, and longing. Its lyrics laced with the pain and hope of incomprehensible pining. They would dance, swaying side to side during that life. Eren singing to him in a language Levi could understand in his memories, though could no longer speak.

  Eren continued as Duncan measured, remeasured, and conceded he would need to once again custom make Levi’s shirts. Levi had kept a close eye on Eren while Duncan worked. Admonished more than once for twisting and turning to watch him as Duncan attempted to pin the far too big button down, then measure him properly.

  When Duncan was finished, Levi redressed, then found his way between racks to Eren. He paused for a moment, looking at a vest. It had been years since he considered buying something extra only for the sake of looking _nice_. Probably right before he purchased the bookshop.

  “It would look good on you,” Eren said, coming to stand next to Levi. His spritely eyes moving between Levi and the vest.

  “It’s striped.”

  “You would look handsome in it.” Eren ghosted the smallest brush of his fingertips over the back of Levi’s hand.

  “The stitching around the pockets might be a bit too fine.”

  “It’s double-breasted,” Eren added.

  “The cut is not bad.”

  “It would suit you.”

  Levi pointed to a tweed vest. “This would fit you.”

  “I like you in pinstripes,” Eren said, deflecting.

  “I like you in tweed.” Levi took both vests and draped them over his arm, clicking his tongue when Eren rolled his eyes. “Did you find any slacks,” he said, diverting Eren’s attention from arguing over the extras.

  “Maybe two that wouldn’t be too much.”

  “Let me see.”

  Eren pulled out two pairs of plain trousers, one brown, one dark grey. Levi eyed them. They were suitable, though he would have preferred to buy Eren something of better quality.

  “They’re really soft,” said Eren, running his hand over the cloth, “and they don’t look like they’d be tight. I don’t like tight pants.”

  “What about these as well?” Levi reached for the striped pair he saw Eren eyeing earlier.

  Eren turned toward Levi and crossed his arms. “They’re expensive.”

  “Are they more expensive than the ones you were despairing over?”

  “No,” Eren shook his head, “but-”

  “And you like them?”

  “Yeah, but I saved up for the others.”

  Levi didn’t want to thrust the item on Eren, but there was no reason he shouldn’t have them. “What if they were a gift?”

  Eren eyed him with suspicion, but there was impishness in his expression, a crease poking lightly into his left cheek. “A gift for what?”

  “I missed your birthday.”

  “How would you know if you missed my birthday or not?” Eren said. “You know that too?”

  “It’s always the same,” Levi said. “March thirtieth.”

  Eren rubbed his chin thoughtfully, glancing up from the pants before he met Levi’s eyes. “Fine, but you have to let me get you something for yours.”

  Levi conceded with a nod. “It’s Dec-”

 “December twenty-fifth,” Eren said, cutting him off.

  “You knew that?”

  “Not until right now...I guess I remembered.”

  “Not bad.” Levi would have given Eren a kiss if they hadn’t been in the tailors. Instead, he squeezed Eren’s arm, swiped the striped pants from the hanger, and strode to the counter.

  The next hour was spent listening to Eren’s chatter while Duncan worked. Hearing him squeak then Duncan muttering to stay still each time Eren’s ribs or waist or legs were tickled by the tape measure or the careful movements of Duncan’s fingers while he pinned the fabric in place.

  Duncan pressed a hand against Eren’s chest. “Stop slouching for Sina’s sake!” A gentle scowl creased his face. “The fit will be all wrong.”

  Despite being scolded, Levi noticed Eren begin to unwind, his shoulders relaxing each time he came from the changing room and showed Levi a new outfit. He went from awkward and anxious, seeming like he was an imposition to making goofy faces at Levi whenever Duncan swatted ones of his hands or arms back into place.

  Though the distraction was welcome, Levi could still envision the puzzling man on the corner. His barbed grin, the way his mouth had twitched and his eyes narrowed when Eren collided with him. His body hadn’t given. Like he was carved from marble or poured in cement. How his smirk grew when Eren stumbled past him. Even his hat looked wrong. Unnatural. It was dented, but there wasn’t a speck of dirt on it, giving it the disturbing impression of being dichotomously new and old at the same time.

  “Levi,” Eren called once, then again.

  Blinking, Levi refocused. Eren was standing before him with his arms akimbo, wearing the tweed vest Levi had chosen for him. His lips were scrunched on the right side, pressing his cheek up toward his eye, so he looked as if he was half-winking.

  “I’m not sure,” Eren said, his eyes tracking his outfit.

  Breathless, Levi took him in. He swallowed carefully, controlling his expression. Eren was gorgeous. Dressed in the smart, brown slacks Levi hadn’t thought were good enough, and a white shirt. Everything needed its final adjustments, but Levi was speechless for a moment. He wished Eren had worn his homburg. It would have looked perfect. “You look very nice.” Insufficient, too-ordinary words compared to the sentiments he felt.

  Eren pinched at the sides of his vest. “I don’t know.”

  “You’ll move the pins!” Duncan said, grasping Eren’s hands. He looked exasperated, but winked at Levi, and patted Eren on the back. “Thank Maria we’re done. You can go change.”

  “Sorry,” Eren said, letting his arms fall to as he cocked his head. “Are you sure this isn’t too much?” he asked Levi.

  “No.” His voice was quieter than what he would have liked with Duncan in their vicinity. “You look handsome.”

  Eren clapped his hands against his thighs, conciliatory. “Alright. I’ll have it, but for something special. This is for occasions,” he said before moving to the changing room.

  None of Levi’s ideas of ‘occasions’ had anything to do with leaving their flat. No extravagant dinners at the pricey restaurants, no visits to that awful pub where the wealthy assholes congregated, no nights spent tromping around the town.

  Instead, he saw Eren dressed in his sharp new clothes at their worn, little, kitchen table eating soup Levi spent an entire Sunday afternoon cooking. Taking Eren’s hand when they were finished then leading him before the hearth to indulge Eren in his love of dancing and clinging and swaying. Unbuttoning his new vest before bed, slipping his pressed, white shirt over his shoulders and down his arms before stripping him of the rest of his clothes. Hanging each item neatly in the wardrobe when he was done, only to turn and find a flushed and sweetly eager Eren watching him from the bed greedy and desirous.

  Levi cleared his throat. The tips of his ears were getting warm.

  “Everything then?” Duncan said, drawing his attention back the shop.

  “Yes,” Levi said, “it should suffice for now.” His head whipped to the window again at the sound of raised voices. Two men were flailing their arms and shouting. They looked to be arguing over a mishap with their motorized carriages.

  Levi cracked his knuckles. The lanky man was nowhere in sight.

   

 *****

  After a quick lunch with Eren in the flat, Levi had come back downstairs to find a handful of patrons waiting outside the locked door to the shop. He’d been inundated with customers during the hours since. Few of the shoppers had been content to quietly browse the shelves either. Most had only shot curious looks in his direction, though there was a handful who asked irritating questions, or offered congratulations on his new relationship.

  He rubbed the fatigue from his eyes, only half listening to one of his more obtrusive regulars, Dieter, then checked his pocket watch.

  A half hour until close.

  Dieter only visited a few times per month now. The blessing that it was since he had a penchant for prattling, and no restraint when it came to invading personal space. Levi glared down at Dieter’s hand. It had been slowly creeping closer to his own on the counter, Dieter’s gold rings clacking on its surface as he drummed his fingers impatiently.

  The trinkets clashed with Dieter’s gaudy vest. A hideous garment bedecked with diagonal stripes of purple, red, and yellow, paired dreadfully with grass-green corduroy pants and a violet waistcoat. A revolting ensemble which matched the grating volume and pitch of his voice. High, sing-song, nasal, and sharp.

  “Are you listening to me?” Dieter said, flicking a lock of his thick, blonde hair from his brow. He sounded like a honking goose. “I asked you a question, Levi.”

  “Sorry,” Levi said. “It’s been a long day.”

  “No need for an apology.” Dieter let out a breath, regarding Levi with a saccharine smile that was far too fond. “I wanted to know if you’ve read Percival Hancock’s new book.”

  Levi shook his head. “No, I haven’t.” His nose caught the scent of supper. It had been wafting downstairs for the last two hours. Onions, meat, and savory herbs. Then he heard the sound of the phonograph playing and Eren’s feet squeaking the boards from above. He gripped his watch in his hand, pressing his fingertips hard against the engraving, before stuffing it in his pocket instead of rechecking it.

  Dieter droned on. “I’ve heard mixed reviews from my reading club,” he said, his expression warming. “I’d trust your opinion better.”

  “I don’t read romance if I can help it.”

  “According to Dahlia,” he began, “you have your own captivating love story right here.”

  Crossing his arms, Levi leaned back on his stool. He narrowed his eyes. “So I’ve heard.”

  “I know, I know it’s none of my business.” Dieter raised his hands in submission. “But you know me.”

  “At times it’s unfortunate.”

  To Levi’s relief, Dieter had recently settled down and found someone of his own. Not long after, he’d ceased digging for transparent excuses to visit the shop only to ask Levi for dates. Levi had refused every offer. Dinner, the theater, sharing a drink at the local pub. A drink which Levi knew was intended to be the precursor to a night in Dieter’s undoubtedly ornate bed.

  Levi nearly shuddered at the thought. Besides Dieter’s irksome habit of talking endlessly about himself, he was a high-society satyromaniac who changed his bed partners more often than his underclothes. It was likely he had the venereal warts to prove it.

  “I’ve come to a decision.” Dieter pulled out his wallet. “Chapter eight looks riveting.”

  Reaching for the book, there was a hefty kick to Levi’s stomach. He could hear the door upstairs open and shut, then Eren’s heavy footfalls tromping down the steps. Eren poked his head out from the back room, hesitating for only a breath before he slid behind the counter.

  “Hey,” Eren said to Levi, ignoring Dieter for the moment. He was balancing Levi’s second favorite cup in his hands. “I made too big a pot.” It was apparent he was trying yet failing not to grin. He smelled like laundry soap and clean sweat as he leaned close to Levi and set down the tea. His hair was still up, though loose tendrils framed his face. There was a wet spot likely from the washboard in the center of his chest. His slacks were riding low, suspenders off his shoulders and left to hang at his hips. Eren was an enchanting mess, and Levi wished the shop was already closed for the night.

  “Sorry,” Eren said, bouncing on his feet. “I wasn't trying to interrupt.”

  “Oh, my,” Dieter said, appraising Eren. His eyes slid to Levi as the corners of his mouth curved into a debauched smirk. “This must be your boyfriend.”

   _Boyfriend_. The term rang in Levi’s ears. It was kitschy and shallow. A paltry description of his and Eren’s relationship. He shook his head. He was stunned Dieter hadn’t said ‘lover.’ It was such a ‘Dieter word.’ Mawkish and tawdry. And it fed into the preoccupation with flowery love stories, so many residents of Trost seemed to have.

  “This is Eren,” Levi said, glancing at Eren with a sympathetic frown.

  Dieter eyed Eren up and down, planting a hand on his hip when his gaze settled on his face. “Isn’t he a pretty little thing.”

  “‘Little?’” Eren said. His expression quickly morphed from shocked to annoyed as a wrinkle creased above the bridge of his nose. “I’m six feet tall!”

  “Yes, yes of course.” Dieter waved Eren off with a flick of his hand. “It wasn’t literal, and I meant nothing by it. I was referring to your age of course. You’re so young, Darling.”

  “Something wrong with that?” Eren asked.

  Cringing, Levi regarded Eren. His shoulders were straight and tight, his arms crossed, the stance of his legs widening. If he were a dog, he would have been snarling and baring his teeth. Levi couldn’t blame him. Dieter had been in the store for less than fifteen minutes, and he was already making his jaw stiff.

  “Certainly not,” Dieter started. He tilted his head to the side and winked. “But now I understand why Levi persisted in turning down my advances, he was looking for a much younger boyfriend.”

  Snapping a stick of charcoal under the counter, Levi watched Eren sputter, his mouth fall open then shut as his good hand tightened into a fist.

  Eren’s eyes were all fire as he stepped toward Dieter and poked him in the chest right over his garish ascot. “Who the hell do you think you are coming in here with those ugly pants and saying something like that?”

  “My pants?” Dieter asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah, your dopey pants, Goldilocks.”

  “They don’t match with your coat,” Levi added.

  Scanning himself, Dieter traced his fingertips over the lapels of his jacket, then looked imploringly at Levi. “Are you going to call this little boar off?” he asked, adding, “Levi please?”

  “I’m not inclined to, no.”

  “Can I kick him out?” Eren asked.

  Levi examined his fingers as he flexed and curled them. “Unless you prefer I do it.”

  “The temerity!” Dieter roared. “The reading club will know about this!”

  It was a hollow threat. Levi owned the only bookstore in town, not to mention Dieter was almost universally loathed unless you were a male looking for free booze —and from what Levi had heard— a stubby cock.

  “Do send them my regards,” Levi said, raising his arm in an exaggerated farewell.

  There was something about watching Eren march a stammering Dieter past gaping customers that made warmth coil in Levi’s chest. To see the plaintive fragility which had overcome him recently melt away. The satisfied smirk on his face as he opened the door and nudged Dieter through it then dust imaginary filth from his palms.

  He looked at Levi, victorious.

  “Closing early,” Levi announced. His jaw still ached, his neck was stiff, his stomach growled as another whiff of dinner’s aroma caressed his nose. He softened his expression and beckoned Eren closer with a flick of his hand.

  “Sorry for making a scene,” Eren whispered as he came to lean against the wall behind Levi. “That guy was a stupid asshole though.”

  “He’s had it coming.”

  “But you didn’t have to close,” Eren said, grabbing a bag for Levi when a young woman began winding her way toward the register with an armful of books.

  “I’ve been thinking of changing the hours,” Levi said, his eyelids falling along with his tension when he saw the rest of the customers begin to file out.

  “Oh,” Eren called, “why?” He was already in the back room, fishing around the shelves, grabbing the cleaning basket and Levi’s step stool. He looked as eager to be done with the shop for the day as Levi was.

  “It’s slow after seven.” He left out the truth of why he had always chosen to close so late when Eren just beamed at him like the sun and got back to work.

  Before Eren, a desolate apartment greeted Levi at the close of each day. A solitary meal at a table half set, sitting across from an empty chair. After that, he either sunk into novels which left him longing for the rare and fantastical companionship most people only read about in stories or he sketched drawings of a man he couldn’t touch. It was followed by an uneasy sleep in a freezing, too big bed. He was devoid of warmth. So cold even late night infusions of cinnamon tea never chased it away.

  His flat wasn’t a home because it was missing its heart.

  Now Levi had gentle smiles and cheeky grins. Awkwardly adoring whispers against his jaw, praises in his ears, and murmurs huffed into his hair in the silent hours of the night. Snickers and beautifully bad jokes. Long arms holding him, while an affectionate hand caressed his back and fingertips brushed across his face with reverence and unbreakable devotion.

  He swallowed around the lump in his throat as he watched Eren meander off with the cleaning supplies. His heart pounding into his ribs when Eren turned and looked at him with promising, smiling eyes before he disappeared around a bookcase.

  Levi cashed out the last customer, feigning patience as he tapped in her bill’s total and shoved what felt like ten-thousand books in the bag. Once he handed over the purchases and stowed the cash in the drawer, he trailed her to the door, locking it as soon as she stepped outside, then turned the sign.

  Planting his back against the cool glass of the window, he pulled in a deep breath and tried his best to curtail his swooning sentimentality. Regardless of his empty stomach and desire for simple, perfect contact, there were still tasks to be done.

  Levi ran his hands over his face and shook his head, pushing off from his perch to find Eren.

  He was in the non-fiction section, stretching up, dusting the shelves Levi could never reach without the aid of a stool. His undershirt was hiked up, and his pants were too low. Revealing the ridiculously tempting dimples on either side of his spine. Those spots Levi liked to draw circles around with his fingertips as they fell asleep. It was a good look on him; tidying the shop with his trousers nearly slipping off.

  Levi cleared his throat along with his head. “Taking on a second job?” he asked with a voice bordering on cracking, reaching to ruffle Eren’s hair.

  Eren paused, pursing his lips. He seemed ready to relent, but not without pouting first. “Let me help this once.”

  “The pay is shit.”

  “Don’t care.” Eren twirled the feather duster in his grip, looking at Levi outright glowing. Then he smiled and bit his lip. It was sweet and restrained and lonely. Secret confessions of ‘I’ve been alone for too many hours’ whispering behind green eyes so impossible Levi still couldn't figure them out.

  “Suit yourself,” Levi said, bending down to grasp a rag, though he didn’t begin cleaning. Eren was still staring at him, his tongue pressing to a canine, seeming like he was trying to find words. “What is it?” Levi asked.

  Eren dropped an arm and tugged at the suspenders hanging over his hips. “I missed you, and I’d like to give you a kiss, but I’ll wait.” He worried his bottom lip again. He was going to chew a hole through it. His eyes shifted to the window, and he glared across the street. “It looks like we have spectators.”

  Levi followed his gaze to a group of four huddled under Dahlia’s awning. They were rubbing their hands together and craning their necks toward the shop. One man at the back was peeking over the hat of an elderly woman, trying to be nonchalant. Given Levi had first noticed them when Dieter arrived, they had to be freezing. Freezing and persistent. “This is a very bored town.” He turned his attention to the bookshelf, sighing at the out of order books. “Dieter’s a good example.”

  “That fucking knob head! Thinking you’d go out with him or do things with him!”

  “He used to be more persistent,” Levi revealed, straightening a shelf. “He has a boyfriend now. Not that it matters much. He’s not the faithful type.”

  “He’s not _your_ type.”

  Levi shook his head. “He isn’t.”

  “I’m not being jealous.”

  “No.” Levi smirked. _‘Protective’_ was what he wanted to say.

  Eren looked down. “I wanted to punch him, ya know,” he whispered through teeth shut tight. “Then toss him through a window.”

  “Some people are worth the effort. Dieter isn’t.”

  “Yeah,” said Eren, “but it wasn’t easy. Something was pressing from inside.”

  “You have a temper.”

  “Do not!” Eren said. “I can control myself.” He crossed his arms as his shoulders slumped.

  Levi eyed him, making an amused noise somewhere between a huff and a snort. At times Eren’s rash decisions were without forethought, but Levi never begrudged his intensity, nor how fierce he could be. If anything he cherished it. “Stop pouting. I didn’t say I cared.”

  “I’m not pouting,” Eren grumbled.

  “You are, and you’re cranky too. Probably hungry.” Levi’s expression softened as he met Eren’s eyes. Something was bothering him. Probably more like twenty things, but there was a worry floating at the top, pitching him around like a buoy in choppy seas. “What is wrong?” Levi asked, his tone more delicate.

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.” Levi could see the tumult inside when he looked at Eren. He was fidgeting and frowning, too many troubles or concerns for him to contain in his sometimes too thick head. They were all bouncing around behind eyes pleading for help or perhaps only comfort regardless he was too stubborn to ask. “Spit it out.”

  Eren slumped, pulling in on himself until he looked all his fifteen years when Levi had first known him during The Catalyst.

  “If it’s Dieter, don’t waste the effort,” Levi said.

  “It’s not.”

  “Nervous for tomorrow?” Levi asked.

  “No.” Eren ran the tips of his fingers over his bandage, his brows furrowing with resolute tenacity Levi knew far too well. He looked like he was about to give him a salute. “I’m going to do great tomorrow.”

  “You don’t like your new clothes then?”

  “No! No, I love them,” Eren said, his voice dropping along with his eyes. “It’s only…”

  “Only what?” Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. “My plans for this evening don’t include playing twenty questions while I dust.”

  Eren took a step forward, watching his feet, his eyes flicking up to Levi’s hand cleaning a shelf which was already free of dust.

  “It’s...it’s only…thanks for earlier today at Duncan’s,” Eren whispered leaning close to Levi’s ear. He didn’t move to embrace Levi, despite the obviousness he wanted to. “I didn't thank you properly, and it must have seemed like I was ungrateful.”

  Levi set his rag down and turned toward Eren, half smiling, half frowning. There was likely more to it, but this was what had Eren so edgy and agitated. He hadn’t thought he said ‘thank you’ right. Levi wanted to kiss him. Eren could be such a wonderful imbecile sometimes.  

  “I didn’t think that,” Levi quietly assured. He waited for Eren to look at him before he continued. “It’s odd for you, I know.”

  “Mm,” Eren hummed, a sound like a deep, quiet whine in his throat before he said, “I know this feels normal to you because you remember. I don’t want to make you pretend you don’t.”

  That accursed tightening was back in Levi’s chest again. Along with the fearful pang in his gut; the one which had been near constant before he’d told Eren the truth. Days ago, he was afraid of Eren making the discovery and leaving. Now Levi was scared of smothering Eren and pushing him away as they slid into what was for him, normalcy. “Don’t worry about that.”

  Eren chanced a touch to Levi’s hand, eyes and shaky fingers searching for permission. “Promise you’ll tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

  “Why would you think you were?” Levi said, running his fingertips over Eren’s palm. Quick and feather-light.

  “I don’t know,” Eren whispered, entwining their fingers together. “I love you, but I don’t know how to be ‘Eren and Levi.’”

  Attentive, selfless Eren. Confident until he thought too hard and the diffidence began to nip at him. Levi blew out a grumbling breath. Eren had said something similar before. “Stop being stupid, you don’t have to _try_.”

  Eren was so close now, buttoning up the space between them until Levi could feel his breath on his face. “So you really do like me how I am this time?” His voice was so low it was difficult for Levi to catch it all.

  “Don’t be an idiot either,” Levi said, holding back a grin. He leaned back to get a better look at Eren and slipped his thumb over his cheek before he pulled his hand away.

  “I’ll try my best,” Eren whispered. He looked as if he wanted crush Levi to him with the way his eyes were darting around, with how he was biting the inside of his cheek. “Was I always such a wreck?” he asked.  

  “You aren’t a wreck. Just intense.”

  “I’ll try to control myself.”

  “Don’t,” Levi said. “Not for me. I’ve always adored your heart.”

  There was Levi’s ever tender, emotional Eren. Looking right into him with glassy eyes. His lips parting with a deep breath before he was clinging to Levi like he required him to stay upright. Levi caught himself with his right foot, keeping them from toppling over as a warm cheek pressed against his neck.

  “You...Levi…you’re,” Eren mumbled, trailing off with half broken, whispered gibberish against Levi’s skin.

  Levi’s hands found the fabric of Eren’s undershirt, twisting it in his fingers. They were in the middle of the shop, naked windows surrounding them like a lense. Levi thought he should care that the prying onlookers were probably watching and gasping in awe, yet he didn’t.

  It had been more of a confession than Levi was typically inclined to give, but he wasn’t above digging up the truth for Eren when he needed to hear it. Still, he could feel his cheeks heating and hid his own face against the top of Eren’s chest when Eren peppered his neck with a litany of almost silent ‘I love you’s.’”

  Levi was going to fall apart if Eren kept doing that.

  “Did you make stew?” he whispered against Eren’s shirt, tethering them back to the material which had for a moment faded away.

  “Stew,” Eren repeated, pulling back, looking at Levi puzzled for a heartbeat. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It’s stew. I was careful with the salt this time too.”

  “I can feel your belly growling.”

  Eren rubbed his hand over his stomach, putting a half-step of space between them.

  Levi regarded Eren with weary affection. “Ready to move upstairs?”

  “Yeah, but I still have to wait for Dahlia,” Eren said. “And we haven’t finished.”

  “Hm,” Levi hummed, toeing the cleaning caddy. He could catch up with the dust in the morning. He wanted a cozy dinner and tea before snuggling into the sofa. Eren leaning against him while holding his hand, telling him all the things which came to his mind. “We can leave her a note to go to the back. It’s not like she hasn’t before,” he said, recalling an intrusive basket of blueberry muffins.

  Eren straightened one last book with a grin, and said, “All right then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is loved and appreciated.


	15. Chapter 15

  Levi tried to move, searching in the dark. Something yanked him through an endless sky. Stodgy and grey-blue. A murky void enveloping him as he rose up, up, up into the black. Then a force tossing him to land flat on his mattress and he was back in his room.

  He hovered on the edge of sleep, floating and resistant, then reached for Eren, his fingers stretching, trying to find skin, muscle, and heat.

  He discovered only a freezing, empty sheet. All Eren’s warmth gone from the bed.

  Levi’s stomach twisted and jumped. He pressed his fingertips to his eyelids.

  If anything could jar him awake, it was this sensation. The twinge in his chest as he shot up, feeling like there was a string pulling in two directions. From the top of his head and the depths of his gut. So tight it was about to snap. Then the tingle crawling over his skull and down his face.

  It hadn’t been long since Levi experienced this panic, yet somehow, the last time felt far away.

  Levi loathed this feeling. A melange of anxious dread laying dense and thick in the pit of his belly, mangling his insides. Too much like what had greeted him in the late hours of the night for more years than he cared to reflect upon.

  He rubbed blinking, desperate eyes. The fire had died down to coals, making it difficult to see, though he spied the faint silhouette of Eren’s suspenders hanging from the bureau knob in the dark. His clothes folded and set neatly upon it. The socks Eren had fashioned into some sort of strange little ball and cast to the floor before he crawled under the quilt hours earlier.

  Finding his bearings with a deep settling breath, Levi scooted off the bed. Eren had to be here, he wouldn’t leave without a word.

  There was no light from the living room when Levi crossed the threshold. He scanned the space. Hearing a quiet sniff, his eyes fell to Eren sitting with folded legs on the rug before the hearth. His back a bent line, the ever-present blanket draped around his shoulders, its edges gripped in his clenched hands. The book he had been reading left next to him, though it was shut.

  Levi went to him, kneeling. Red rimmed eyes, wet and tear-filled looked up and met his before Eren was scrubbing them with fists.  

  Eren sniffed again, and Levi shifted, skimming his fingertips over Eren’s brow. “Why are you sitting here by yourself?”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” Eren pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Nightmare?”

  “Mhm.” Eren nodded his head. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t.” Knocking his knuckles against Eren’s knee, Levi added, “but you should have.”

  “I-I…” Eren stuttered.

  “The bed was cold.”

  He and Eren had both woken each other with nightmares and restless sleep in the past. None were plaguing Levi as they had been in the months and years prior. Still, he was no stranger to startling himself into wakefulness, clutching the quilt in the desolate emptiness of his room with no one there but himself.

  Levi glanced at the grate, giving Eren a moment. Eren hadn’t tended the fire. The living room was cooled to a chill. It felt unloving and hollow. How it was before Eren’s light filled it.

  The only way Eren should have been sitting on the floor by the fire was with an easy expression, soaking up the heat of flames. Levi shouldn’t be finding an abandoned bed and Eren crying to himself in the loneliest hours of the night.

  Jaw flexing with rage he had no target for, Levi willed himself to settle. He pulled Eren’s blanket tighter around him then tucked his hair behind his ear. “I’ll make us some tea.”

  Nodding, Eren wiped his eyes again. His face warmed with a faint smile, though the sorrow didn't leave his eyes.

  There wasn't a time in Levi’s recollection when he had ever desired to break his little teapot, but as he set it on the smooth wood of the counter, some foreign urge wanted to pitch it against the window.

  He pressed his fingernails hard into his palms. Eren required him. His own anger over Eren’s anguish could be swept to the side. Multiple lifetimes with memories barely more than a gentle brush in Eren’s dreams, and when finally, one came which felt as though they’d punched through a wall, Eren was forced to relive his previous wounds.

  They needed something calming. Levi looked on his shelf, grasping momentarily for the brew with valerian, then shook his head, quickly deciding against it. It could be helpful, but it tasted like shit.

  Opting instead for a mildly flavored chamomile, he prepared the infusion, looking over his shoulder to check on Eren more than was necessary. He was kneeling before the hearth, poking a log he had added. He still looked pitiful. Gloomy and pained, but Levi caught the faintest hint of a smile when the flames ignited, painting him in warm light. It fell too quickly, dissolving before Levi made it halfway back to the living room.

  Levi stood, watching Eren. Frozen as his fingers curled tighter around the handles of the tray. “There weren’t any biscuits,” he whispered more to himself than Eren. He shouldn’t have allowed them to dwindle.

  “I remembered my mom dying,” Eren said softly toward the carpet, focusing on a pulled thread he was twisting between his fingers.

  “From that life?” Levi asked, setting the tea service down as he joined Eren on the rug. Levi inclined his head only a touch. He picked up Eren’s favorite teacup and held it before him. “Drink this. It will help you sleep.”

  Eren accepted the offer with two shaky hands. Levi grimaced as he watched him take a deep sip. Too deep not to cut a path of fire all the way down.

  Looking into the rising steam billowing around his face, Eren began, “I know it happened a long time ago…” He wiped his nose. “She’s not my mom now...but it hurts like she was. I loved her too.”

  “It doesn’t always fade.” Levi closed his eyes tight.

  He could see little hands which once belonged to him neatening Kuchel’s blanket after she passed, how pale her cheek was when he touched it. How cold. He could feel the chill of the room without her warm arms to cuddle him. Too empty and quiet without her voice to fill it.

   Eren touched the back of Levi’s hand with teacup warmed fingers. “Hey...”

   Levi didn’t respond for a moment, though he opened his eyes and brushed Eren’s palm. “Go on.”

  Looking toward the ceiling, Eren pinched his lip between his teeth. “It’s the first time it was so vivid. It was different. Some of my memories of you feel like I’m there...but,” he said, drawing his knees up, “this is the first time it was the beginning to end. Nothing was missing.”

  “They’re getting clearer.”

  Eren snorted then chuckled darkly. He was quiet, glancing at Levi with a rare sardonic expression before he focused back on his tea and sipped. When he was finished, he ran the back of his hand over his lips, letting go of another sarcastic laugh. Small and exasperated. “I don't know if I want them anymore,” he said, “not if I have to remember this. I don't need to remember you back then to love you now. It was there before I even met you this time.”

  Lost for something to say, Levi found Eren’s free hand with his own. Eren’s fingers were too cold, all the warmth having drained from them. Clammy and trembling with skittery, uneven movements against his palm. He had no frame of reference for Eren’s suffering other than during The Catalyst. Though what Eren recalled then weren't memories of his own, it felt similar. Nightmares and uninvited visions that sometimes pulled Eren away from Levi, from everyone. In that incarnation, time had been the only cure.

  “We should focus on now,” Levi said. “Do you plan to leave here?”

  Eren looked at him confused. He practically winced. As if the question wounded him. “You mean Trost? Why would I-”

  “I mean here?” Levi said, looking around the room. “This flat.”

  Eren held his eyes shut and shook his head as it dropped. “I was trying not to think about it. I know I stayed and didn't leave, but I don't want to go.”

  “We should get the rest of your things.”

  “There isn't much more.”

  “Sunday then?”

  Levi knew what the answer would be, but it had to be Eren’s choice. There would be no presumptions on Levi's part. The best Levi could give Eren was normalcy and stability. The flat was creaky and drafty, the kitchen counter too small and nicked with knife marks. Sometimes the water sputtered in the pipes causing ungodly sounds in the wall, and often the alley beside it smelled. Despite its imperfections, it was theirs. It was warm in the evenings, and the worst of the sun was blocked in summer. The bed was soft and cozy, and the beams across the ceiling were sturdy. It was unremarkable, ordinary, and clean. It was what Eren needed. And Levi needed it too.

  “Mhm,” Eren hummed. He moved Levi’s arm aside, wrapping it around himself as he rested his head on Levi’s shoulder. “Sunday.”

  Eren made no move for comfort as he had two nights before, only curled himself into Levi’s embrace, getting as comfy as he could on the floor. Levi combed his fingers through Eren’s hair and pressed his lips to his forehead. He held him close until he fell back to sleep. He felt good in his arms. Solid, alive, warm, and motionless save for his breaths.

  Sometimes hearing about the dreams left Levi gritting his teeth at his powerlessness, as he was then. In the past, Eren wasn’t always consoled. There were nights when getting Eren to sleep at all was a victory. Those evenings when talking his way through his misery gave only small comfort.

  It wasn’t until Eren began softly snoring Levi realized how hard his fingers were gripping Eren’s pajamas. He flexed and shook them gently. Eren didn’t stir.

  Accepting he wasn't returning to bed, he laid down on the carpet, carefully taking Eren down with him. He made sure Eren’s blanket was still covering him and tucked it up under his chin, then buried his nose in his hair.

  Levi didn’t sleep the remainder of the night, though he rested as best he could manage. With his eyes shut, listening to Eren breathe. Occasionally he found himself back in the foggy space between waking and dreams, but every muffled groan or minute twitch from where Eren lay in his arms hoisted him back to the waking world.

  When the room lightened, and the sky beyond the window painted itself in buttery yellow and rosy pink, he sighed. Eren could get away with another few minutes before he would need to wake for work.

  He stretched beneath Eren, scowling at dust motes and ruminating on how to go about their morning. Eren said the day before he enjoyed their breakfasts with tea and toast and conversation. There was still blackberry jam. Best to keep it uneventful and delightfully bland.

  Levi peered at Eren’s face. It was placid; peaceful. He was drooling on Levi’s chest, looking like a beautifully imperfect angel. Levi smiled at his sentimental absurdity. It was disgusting. It should have caused him to recoil and retrieve a handkerchief. Rather, his heart clenched with fondness and affectionate warmth.

  Eren never drooled when he had nightmares.

  Reaching out, Levi moved Eren’s hair away from this cheek. It was silky between his fingers, the movement bringing the faint scent of Eren’s soap to his nose. “Eren...”

  Levi’s lips curved when Eren raised the back of his hand to his mouth. His eyes were still closed, though a faint scowl touched his features as he wiped the drool away and yawned. “Gross.”

  Levi smoothed the frown in Eren’s brow. “Repulsive.”

  

*****

        

  They didn’t speak much of Eren’s dream over breakfast, and Levi didn’t push any discussion about it. Instead, they sat quietly, Eren bumping his foot against the floor under the table. Levi wasn’t sure if he was nervous or excited. Either was possible. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

  Eren got ready earlier than needed. By the time Levi heard him getting out of the shower, Levi was still sitting at the table drinking his third cup of tea and working on a second helping of eggs and toast.

  Emerging from the washroom with a towel around his waist, Eren strut over to snatch one of Levi’s pieces of bread. He slathered a generous layer of jam on it before stuffing the entire triangle in his mouth. “Do you think I should just tie my hair back?” he asked with his mouth full.

  Levi hummed, looking up from yesterday’s paper.  “You seem to prefer your bun lately.”

  Eren combed his fingers through his hair, holding a lock between his thumb and forefinger, examining it. “I do, but some of it falls out in my face.”

  “Dahlia might not like that.”

  “I don’t want to give her anything to scold me about.”

  “I doubt she’d scold you.”

  “I don’t know,” said Eren. “Yesterday her nieces said she can be a really mean as a boss.”

  “I’ve heard the same,” Levi said. “Best be safe.”

  Eren walked to the entrance of the bedroom. He paused before he went inside and looked at Levi. “I’ll put it in the bun when I get home. I know you like it.”

  “Brat,” Levi muttered as Eren disappeared through the door.

  Eren had figured out every little way to make him blush and squirm. Every flirtatious quip that caused his stomach flip inside. And he exploited it each chance he had. Levi should have expected it. Eren was ever the more suggestive one, and Levi knew he reveled in his ability to render him speechless with burning cheeks. He’d been like that from the very onset. Pressing up against Levi’s boundaries yet never crossing them. Pushing him to that place he loved being in but would never admit to. Not that he needed to. Eren knew what he was doing just as he always had. He shook his head smirking and finished off his last bit of toast.

  When Eren walked out of the bedroom, he was dressed. Levi appraised him in his clean, white button down and plus eights as he came to stand before him. He ran his hands over Eren’s broad shoulders, and down his chest, trying not to smile too big. Then hooked his thumbs under Eren’s suspenders and tugged himself up for a kiss. He lingered longer than intended, savoring the aroma of Eren mixed with spicy aftershave. Pulling back, he trailed his fingers over Eren’s starched collar, making sure he hadn’t left it askew, and said, “There” with an approving hum.

  “This looks all right then?” Eren said, scuffing his boot on the floor and gesturing at the length of himself.

  “They fit you well,” Levi said. “Maybe a little baggy.” He tugged at the waist where he could easily slip two fingers between Eren’s stomach and the fabric. “Your suspenders will hold them up, and they don’t look bad.”

  “When’s the other stuff coming?”

  “A couple days,” Levi said, walking to the bathroom to retrieve a hairbrush and one of the ties Eren used in his hair. He gestured to the floor in front of the couch and sat on the edge. “I’ll fix your ponytail for you.”

  Slipping between Levi’s knees, Eren sat on the rug. He mumbled a quiet, “Thanks” as Levi threaded his fingers through his hair and began brushing with gentle strokes.

  It had been a long time since Levi had done this for Eren. The last time they both had full heads of grey and Levi’s fingers ached. “Do you remember this?” he asked as he moved the brush, mindful of any knots left from sleeping.

  Tilting his head to the side, Eren hummed quietly. “Not a particular time, but it feels...familiar,” he said. “Did you do this for me a lot?”

  “You never like cutting your hair.” Levi ran the brush through again, trailing his fingers along next to it, watching the strands slip between his fingers. “And you always enjoyed this.”

  “You like taking care of me.”

  “Hmm.” Levi tweaked Eren’s ear, leaning close to it. “And you’re a presumptuous little shit.”

  “But I’m not wrong.”

  “No...”

  Levi brushed more than was necessary, lost in a ritual he’d been unable to partake in for so long. Appreciating the texture of the soft locks and listening to Eren talk about how he thought his day would be and what kind of bread they should have with dinner. Eren’s voice was smoky and rough in the mornings, the same as his early day smiles. Tiny creases etching the corners of his eyes when his lips curved. Beautifully flawed like his hands; calloused but warm from sleep. Stroking over Levi’s skin with silken touches. Coy yet brazen, and leaving Levi dreamily drowning in affection.  

  Pulling himself from the clouds with a quiet hum, Levi watched Eren’s hair slip from his fingers one last time and set the brush aside. He exhaled a slow breath and tied the band around Eren’s hair at the base of his head.

  Eren was near purring, but Levi glanced at the clock and squeezed his shoulder. “Finished.”

  “Thanks,” Eren said. “Do you think I have time for one more cup of tea?”

    Levi nodded and went to work on a settling Jasmine brew, regardless that Eren wanted the jolt black tea would give him. They sat at the table, poking fun at an article in the previous day’s paper before Levi saw Eren out.

  When they said goodbye at the back door downstairs, after they kissed, Levi slipped a ring with four keys into Eren’s hand.

  “For all the locks,” Levi said. “The studio too…” Hesitating for a moment when Eren smiled warm and bright and sentimental at him, Levi added, “So you don’t get locked out.”

  Eren’s fingers curled around glinting brass, his thumb tracing along the worn peaks of their teeth, staring down at his palm in tender awe. His eyes looked watery, but he blinked any moisture beginning to collect away as he tightened his grip around them, then stuffed them into his trouser pocket.

  “Thanks.” Eren didn’t say anything more, only kissed Levi’s forehead, lingering for six pounding beats of Levi’s heart, put on his hat, and departed with a squeeze to Levi’s hand.

  Eren made it to the end of the alleyway before Levi closed the door. Then he watched through the window as Eren stepped onto the street in the direction of the bakery. He shook his head when Eren took the diagonal instead of going corner to corner like he had the day they reunited.

  Levi’s breath fogged the glass as he thought, _‘ten more hours,’_ and Eren opened the door then disappear inside.

  

*****

 

  More than a week had passed since Levi last gave the shelves a good polishing. He was wiping down the smooth, rich wood with oil and wax when heard the tinkle of the bell on the door, then the familiar footsteps of Barney. He always knew them. Measured and heavy with short pauses as he stopped to appraise the bookcases. It struck Levi as if Barney needed to take in the store each time he entered. He always gave a haughty sniff, seeming to reacquaint himself. Making sure it was the same as his last visit. He noticed any changes as well–which didn’t come often–but a new pile of books or a slinger posted announcing something always drew commentary from him.

  Levi tugged the handkerchief down from over his mouth and peered around the side of the bookshelf he was cleaning. “An irregular time for you.”

  Barney rubbed his hands together. “You’ve caught me out again.”

  “Town’s upside down it seems,” Levi said as he climbed down his step stool.

  “Thought maybe I’d check in.” Barney scratched his forehead and pursed his lips. “To be frank, I wasn’t expecting things to get this strange with the folk. I wanted to see how you two were holding up.” He combed his fingers through the blonde streak in his greying beard. “My apologies. If I knew how out of hand it would get, I would have tried to rein Dahlia in.”

  Levi put a hand up. “It’s not your fault,” he began, “no one can control her. She has no keeper.”

  “I feel as though I encouraged her,” Barney said. “Let her talk my ear off. I should have called for some discretion when she was squawking to every customer in the bakery.”

  Levi scoffed and brushed his hands together as he walked to the counter. “She would have bit your head off.” He untied the handkerchief hanging from his neck. “Bothersome as it is, it’s helped business.”

  “Oh?” Thick eyebrows touched Barney’s hair. “Nosey folks at least buying a book or two when they come in?”

  “That, and a lot of customers interested in books about Levi and Eren.” Levi frowned, stopping short of rolling his eyes. “I’ll need to order more.”

  “I suppose that’s a windfall.”

  “Half of them had bags from the bakery.” Levi peered through the window, across the street.

  “Think the lad will weather it well?”

  “Can’t be sure,” Levi said. “But he was in good spirits when he left this morning.”

  “Eren seems like the resilient sort.”

  If Barney only knew. “Hmm,” Levi hummed and nodded.

  He had been fretting over Eren since an onslaught of patrons had flooded the bookstore soon after opening. Some had been coy and almost shy, stealing looks at Levi like he was some sort of celebrity, while others were too forthcoming.

  He’d promptly kicked one woman from the shop who enquired if he and Eren’s sex life was as “explosively sensual” as depicted in the novels. The next customer he ejected was a mousy little man he never cared for who dared to ask if Eren was hung as well as his namesake. If Eren experienced the same variety of harassment, Levi wasn’t sure Dahlia wouldn’t come running over to tell him he started a brawl in the bakery.

  Mostly it was irritating and had died down after a few waves, though Levi was preparing for more to come during the late afternoon when he tended to be busier.

  “Sorry,” Levi said when Barney cleared his throat.

  “You’ve a lot on your mind.”

  “It’s not as bad as-” Levi’s voice dropped off when the bell chimed.

  His jaw tightened as he and Barney turned their heads. The man who got in Eren’s way the day before stood in the entranceway holding the door open. He was perched on the threshold, letting in the chill. His hand tightening around the handle as a grim smile curled his lips.

  Clasping his hands together, Barney shivered as a gust of wind blew flakes of snow inside.  

  “Unless you’re planning to reimburse me for my wasted coal, shut that.”

  “My apologies, Sir,” the man sneered as he bowed then closed the door.

  He wore the same dark, black trench coat, the same acerbic half smirk, and sharp brimmed hat he had been sporting the day before.

  It wasn’t from fear, but Levi could feel the hair rising on the back of his neck as the man strolled in and began poking his head curiously between the shelves. Levi rubbed his jaw and dropped his gaze when Barney shot him a concerned look.

  “Never seen him before,” Barney whispered, shimmying around to the edge of counter adjacent Levi.

  Levi glanced beneath it. There was a gun fastened to the underside. Easily accessible and loaded.

  He’d only needed to pull it out once in his tenure as the owner of the shop. Nearly a decade before, one of the cretins from the tenements a few blocks over tried to rob him. Levi hadn’t needed to do more than jump the counter brandishing the revolver before the would-be thief backed away and ran out the door blubbering and begging Levi not to kill him. The reputation which preceded him in other incarnations wasn’t as prevalent in this one, but after the incident, he had been overlooked as a target for robbery or mugging even with his diminutive stature.  

  That had been the only time he’d ever had the inclination to grab the weapon.

  Like the previous day when they saw the man on the way to Duncan’s, Levi was struck by the sense of familiarity. As if a person from his past life memories had sauntered into the present and he couldn’t place them. Levi narrowed his eyes as he watched him round one row of shelves and disappear down another. There was something about the strides he took; askance and foreboding. More like a swagger. It reminded Levi of Kenny, though not quite the same. And he stuck out. Not because his clothes didn’t blend in, not because his scruffy, light brown goatee looked out of place. He didn’t have notable features other than the length of his face and point of his chin. More it was the set of his shoulders, the way his legs lifted when he walked, like he was sliding on oil or his feet were lighter than the average human’s.

  Barney was watching where the man had disappeared to, eyeing the area as if waiting for a beast to jump out. His side hugged the edge of the counter, and he exchanged a perplexed and unsettled look with Levi as his fingers drummed with loud thumps against its surface. Levi reached out and stilled his hand, meeting Barney’s eyes with a quick flick of his head toward a mirror mounted up in the corner of the shop.

  It was important not to arouse suspicion, though Levi would have bet all the day’s takings there was more to the perfidious man’s visit than that of a mere customer. Pulling out his ledger, he attempted to look busy as he picked conversation back up with Barney all the while searching his mind for clues of where he had seen him before. “Gotten through your last selection?”

  Barney rubbed his hands together and cocked a brow in question.

  Wishing others were as good at reading his cues as Eren, Levi reiterated, then offered, “I have a few new volumes set aside if you have.”

  “Ah-ah…yes,” Barney said, stuttering as he caught on. “I’d be interested. The last one was excellent.”

  “There are a few in that vein.” The left corner of Levi’s lip curved. “Though not all Elsa Webster.”

  “Not every author can be Elsa,” Barney said. “Sad as that fact may be.”

  “Truly.” Levi reached to a shelf under the counter, then handed Barney a leather volume. “New author. I thought it might appeal to your tastes.” He watched as Barney traced a stubby finger over the design embossed on the cover.

  “Beautiful workmanship,” Barney whispered, paging through the novel with a reverence only a bookworm would understand. “And brand new.”

  “Take it, it’s yours.” Levi waved his hand, flicking his eyes up when he heard shuffling from between two bookcases. “I could use an expert as a test reader.”

  Barney nodded. “Thank you, Levi.”

  “A review would be helpful,” said Levi, “if it turns out to be any good, that is.”

  “A fair trade.”

  Glancing up at the mirror, Levi watched the lanky man move toward the non-fiction shelf. His jaw flexed as he observed him pulling volume after volume down from where the texts on warfare were displayed. He browsed through some of them briefly, his head swiveling as he looked over his shoulder like a prowler about to be caught. Under other circumstances, Levi would have pegged him as a shoplifter come to steal a rare book or two to sell at the pawn shop, but this man didn’t possess the bearing of a petty thief, drunkard, or john.

  As much as he had wandered —mosied through the store, cocking his head up and down, scanning what was on offer, Levi’s instincts insisted it was a poorly contrived act. Despite his apparent ineptitude, that impression didn’t sit right. The lanky man had the milieu of a professional. The kind of criminal who didn’t take petty jobs. The kind you hired if you wanted someone gone and no trace of them left behind. This was the type of man who waited in the dark, slit his target’s throat without ever being seen, then cleaned up the blood. Why in the hell did he seem so dichotomously amateur then?

  Levi’s analysis was cut off when the man came out from the history section, an armful of heavy books clutched to his chest as he ambled to the counter. Levi turned toward him, rolling his shoulders. No one should walk so smoothly carrying such a load. Most would lumber under the weight like a supply nag burdened with too many bags.

  Levi could manage of course, though he was seasoned. Accustomed to taking trips across the store with pounds of books piled high and balanced on his forearms. He trained his expression back to impassive regardless that every one of his internal alarms was sounding. This stranger was nearly as nimble and agile as he was. Hardened too.

  As if to prove a point, the man dropped the books before him on the counter from half a foot above its surface. Levi didn’t flinch.

  He was watching Levi and Barney, pulling a face like he had astonished himself. It was theater. It reminded Levi of a child testing the heat of a hearth, scowling in disbelief, as if its parents’ warnings had been lies.

  Levi steepled his fingers, pressing the tips to the underside of his chin as he regarded him.

  It was curious this man wanted Levi to take him as an abecedarian fool. _‘Interesting ploy,’_ Levi thought. “All of these?” he asked and grasped the top book from the stack. His voice was thick with the boredom of the unimpressed.

  “Indeed, Levi,” the man said, drawing out the last syllable as he tipped his hat, overly polite.

  Paging through the top book for the price tag, Levi raised his eyes. Wryly, he smirked. “Seeing as you already know my name, I’ll know yours.”

  “Eckhard,” he said. His lip twitched along with his hand as he placed it on the counter. He cracked his neck and hissed an exhale through his teeth when Levi only hummed, sounding as if he couldn’t care less.

  Levi reveled in Eckhard’s reaction when his hard, icy blue eyes widened a touch. He was good but not as good as Levi at holding the mask in place. These days, there was only one person who could rattle Levi enough to cause his expression to fall from its repose. And based on the district’s scent, he was currently across the way baking sourdough.

  Nearly pressing out a ‘tsk,’ Levi bit his tongue and continued working through the books, slowly ringing them up one by one. He turned them over in his hands lazily. They were all about the Titan Wars, two about Levi and Eren, though not of the romance variety. “Interesting.”

  More interesting was the air of Ackerman which seeped like steam from the storm drains on a frigid winter day. It clung to Eckhard as he stood there. Not the energy Mikasa had put off, or even Kenny. It was different, like comparing the flavor of coffee and tea. One was bitter and acrid, the other was rich and smooth.

  Barney lingered in the periphery, his attention moving between Levi, Eckhard, and the volume Levi had offered him free of charge. He was silent, though his alertness forced a tightness into the shop and the peculiar exchange.

  Eckhard was squirming slightly as Levi took his time. It would be imperceptible to most, but Levi could detect it, feel his tension like static crackling over his skin. Though he wanted to, Levi didn’t smirk as he gathered himself and pressed the lever on the register down without haste then rattled off the total.

  The glinting gold of Eckhard’s money clip drew Levi’s attention as he peeled off several bills. Only an idiot or a thug would flash that kind of currency without regard. Eckhard slipped the bills onto the pile. “Pricey, eh?”

  Levi made change and turned slowly on his stool then placed it on the top book. “You have expensive taste.” He filled two paper bags and left them on the counter eager for Eckhard to leave. His fingers felt as if they needed to flex or ball into fists.

  Flashing a wicked grin of unkempt teeth, Eckhard took his purchases and turned on his heel without hesitation. It was only when Eckhard stepped out to the pavement and the door shut behind him that Levi remembered the first time he had seen him.

  “The museum,” Levi murmured.

  “What about it?” Barney asked.

  Levi shook his head. “Oh...nothing.”

  Barney groaned and ran his hands over his arms while he shivered. “Odd fellow,” he began, “something’s not right about him.”

  Levi’s blood ran icy as Eren’s episode over the weekend replayed through his mind. Eckhard had been in the museum when Eren had pounded his fist into the floor. He had been standing behind them. Levi had snarled at him as he hoisted Eren up to leave. Threatened him even. He ran both his hands through his hair and willed his tightening muscles to relax. “He smelled funny,” Levi said, meeting Barney’s eyes.

  “I didn’t notice.” Barney huffed out a breath. It was so great, Levi wondered how long he had held it for. “But something about him was very strange. He gave me the chills. The same feeling when you know someone’s watching you and staying unnoticed.”

  Levi didn’t volunteer his realization. It would only worry Barney, and he wouldn’t understand anyhow. “I don’t mind taking his money.”

  “I understand,” said Barney, “though I hope not to be in his presence again.”

  “To be sure.”

  “Do you think he’s one of those gang bosses who works for the crooked merchants?”

  Tapping his lip, Levi shook his head. “No, he’s different.”

  “Still, I should mention him to some of the other keepers around the district.” Barney stood up straighter, puffing out his chest. “He could be casing the shops.”

  “You can never be too careful.”

  “Assuredly,” Barney said. “I know you can take care of yourself, but some of the older folk...”

  “I’ll keep an eye on things.”

  Barney gave a firm pat to Levi’s back. “You’re an honorable man.”  

  “I think I need some tea,” Levi said, an offer to Barney implied in the tone of his voice.

  “Thank you, but I have more errands.”

  “Should I expect Eckhard to be the town’s new subject of gossip?” Levi asked. He went to the back room and set the kettle to boil. Then, leaning against the frame of the doorway with crossed arms, he eyed Barney in question.

  “I’m planning on making mention just to be safe,” Barney explained. “I’ll advise the shopkeepers to keep it hushed though.”

  Levi snorted. “Doesn’t sound promising.”

  Running a hand over his belly, Barney balanced on his heels for a moment and glanced up. “In this case,” he began, “I hazard they will be discreet.” He paused again before he went on, “If he’s been into the other stores, I imagine the rest of the merchants were put off as we were today.”

  Nodding once, Levi gave his chin a casual tap. “If you hear anything would you mind filling me in?”

  “Taking up a new hobby of gossip, are you?”

  “It’s hardly that,” Levi clarified. “I don’t think that’s the last any of us have seen of Eckhard. I’d like to know what he’s up to.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Right away if you don’t mind,” Levi added. “Whether it’s Sunday or when the shop’s closed, you won’t be disturbing us.”

  Promising to relay anything of interest he heard, Barney shook Levi’s hand then promptly departed with his new book under his arm. Levi was left in his shop to his own devices until the afternoon crowd came around. Yet another day he felt like shutting the store up as soon as Eren returned.

  Had he been able to, Levi would have covertly trailed Eckhard for a short reconnaissance mission, following him on his day’s travels until he could determine where he resided.

  He’d be the back alley kind. Levi had noted the mud on his boots again. The grey oozing kind that sat thick on the toes, drying in a crusty layer over the leather up to where the laces began. It could only end up stuck that firm and high if a person were slogging through the puddles and sticking to the shadows. The only types who avoided the walks beside the street under the awnings of the shops were those who wished to remain unseen.

  Levi stretched his neck. In a different life, he would have laid Eckhard out and put a knife to his throat. He was no idiot, Eckhard had to have followed him and Eren to the museum or taken note of them there. Levi didn’t leave much up to chance —even his repeated lifetimes with Eren.

  It wasn’t serendipity Eckhard happened to be visiting the museum on the other side of town only to be loitering at the corner of a building two days later, then appearing in Levi’s store the next day.

  Spooning leaves into his teapot, Levi steeled himself. The water was ready and waiting, the kettle cast to the trivet on the counter so he could finish with Barney ten minutes earlier.

  It was still steaming as he poured it with too tight fingers over pearls of Gunpowder. His thoughts turned to Eren as he watched the wads of tea leaf bloom under the stream of hot water. He should give him a knife. Reteach him how to use one if he didn’t know. Like Levi had done so many times before.

  Fierceness and quickness to anger were traits Eren always possessed, so Levi was sure he could fight, but Eckhard didn’t seem as if he would be so quickly dispatched. At that realization, Levi could feel foreboding crawl up his spine. It was like an injection of frost. In these respects, Levi was seldom wrong. Almost never was he off the mark when it came the shifty and dangerous. They would see Eckhard again, and Levi wasn’t convinced it would be peaceful. Today had felt like a challenge, either that or intelligence gathering, which inevitably always lead to confrontation.

  Rolling up his sleeves, Levi grit his teeth then poured himself a cup. He opened his pocket watch. Only four hours until Eren was off, and a good hour before the next influx of customers usually arrived. He took a sip and brought the teacup along to the shelf he’d been dusting, planning to throw himself into the work.

  Making everything sparkle was a tried and tested method of burning off nervous energy and aggression when he had no other place to stow it. He climbed the step stool, leaning over to put his cup on the bookcase behind him and resumed polishing.

  Once the next gaggle of customers began streaming in near four, Levi had finished with most of the bookcases. His arm hurt, and only the shelves which lined the far wall were still in need of a good dusting. He could always finish it the next day.

  The patrons weren’t nearly as nosey as they had been that morning. Still, there were a few whispers and awkward glances. Two little old ladies who usually came in every other Saturday wanted to meet Eren. He had endured smirks from those who purchased more Eren and Levi novels, most blushing under Levi’s barely masked scrutiny. As bothersome as it was, by the time Eren got back the till was three times as full as it was most other days.

  Walking past the shelves as he crossed the store to the back, Eren looked down the aisles as he flushed and hurried his steps. He stopped just short of touching or embracing Levi, shoulders sagging as he adjusted a bundle cradled in his arm and his free hand fell to his side. “I suppose a kiss would be a bad idea.”

  Levi rolled his eyes. “Yes, unless you’d like to throw oil on the bonfire.”

  “Has it been like this all day?”

  “Worse,” Levi said. “How was work?”

  “I had an audience and hid in the kitchen while I ate lunch.” Eren reached for the tie in his hair and pulled it free. “My back hurts so much, and it took half a day to learn, but I can bake a yummy bread loaf.”

  Levi nodded toward the parcel under Eren’s arm. “That what you have there?”

  “It’s wheat sourdough.” Eren grinned and laid it on the counter. “But the shape’s funny, so Dahlia let me have it.”

  Levi unwrapped the cloth covering and stifled a snort. Eren had clearly fucked up transferring the dough to the oven, leaving the loaf shaped like a bean. It was curved on the side, and one end was flat while the other looked like it was pregnant. Levi poked a dimple in the bulge. “Air bubble?”

  “It was my first try.” Eren snickered, perhaps a bit embarrassed. “I got a lot better.”

  Squeezing the deformed blob gently, Levi said, “Firm crust, soft in the center.”

  “It’s not pretty.”

  “It smells good.”

  Eren stood taller, green eyes crinkling with pride. “Dahlia made the pre-dough, but the rest was all me.”

  “Dough can be testy.”

  Scratching the back of his neck, Eren said, “It was tricky at first. Dahlia told me the one she tried tasted good though, and I’m getting better.” He smiled, genuine and excited. “Only the first was this ugly.”

  “It’s unique.” It was free, surprise bread made by Eren’s hands. Levi didn’t care if the loaf looked like it was about to give birth. They could cut off the top and fill the hollow lump with leftover stew or seared vegetables and herbs. Licking his lips, he envisioned a generous spoonful of butter melting over the top along with dried chive, thyme, and sage. He pressed a hand to his growling stomach to silence it. “It will taste just as good.”

  “I hope.”

  “Maybe you could fuck one up tomorrow too?”

  “On purpose?” Eren asked. He looked shocked, his brow descending in an admonishing frown before his lips curled. “If this one doesn’t taste like shit.”

  “We’ll have it tonight.” Levi brushed flour from the tip of his finger with his thumb. “If it’s good you can leave her some coin tomorrow.”

  “But it needs to rest.”

  “Fuck letting it rest,” Levi said. He narrowed his eyes at a curious patron spying from around a shelf, glaring until the nosey bastard retreated. “You better get upstairs if you don’t want to deal with them.” He tilted his head toward a group of five women who had stopped before the entrance. They were chatting and tittering as they peered inside. Beaming grins on their faces while they pushed at each other. They looked to be having a debate over which one of them would open the door.

  “Ugh,” Eren groaned. “Those crones were just at the bakery having dessert. I think they followed me.”

  Levi smirked then whispered, “Run.”

  

*****

  

  “You stink,” Levi said, inclining his head toward Eren and taking a deep sniff. Eren was under there somewhere, below the aroma of what smelled like yeast, mildewed flour, and overcooked onions.

  Eren stuck his nose in his armpit and shrugged. “What do you expect? I’ve been standing in front of a hot oven all day while you sat on your ass behind a counter.”

  “I polished the shelves too.”

  Raising his eyebrows, Eren dropped his drawers. “That’s why you reek of linseed!” He wadded up his shirt and kicked his trousers and underwear across the floor toward the corner, looking at Levi with an amused expression, daring Levi to scold him.

  “Get in the fucking tub,” Levi said with a twitch of his lips. He poked Eren in the ribs then threw his clothes atop the disordered mound Eren had created in the corner.

  “Stubborn, smelly brat,” he grumbled as Eren rolled his eyes and eased himself into the bath, hissing at the hot water. Levi would scrub him down and shampoo his hair until he smelled like his proper self again.

  He poured a touch of lavender oil into the bath. They could both use the calming effect of its scent.

  “You getting in?” Eren asked. He smiled, swirling the water with his still broken fingers and turned over the bar of soap in his other hand. He’d probably play with a boat in the bath if Levi gave him one.

  “Obviously,” Levi said. “I’m standing here freezing my nuts off.”

  Eren eyed him, looking both expectant and confused.

  “You’re taking up the entire bath. Make room.” Levi flicked his hand. “I was going to rub your aching shoulders. You’ve been sighing and groaning since you walked through the door.”

  “Oh.” Eren slid forward when Levi wedged a foot in the small space between his ass and the tub. Levi sank down in the water, parting his legs so Eren could lean back against him. “I hope you can stand my smell,” Eren said, lathering his hands and promptly washing his underarms.

  The water was hot, but Eren was warmer against his chest. They fit nicely. It wasn’t as big a tub as they had possessed in other homes in other lives, but it was far from the smallest they’d been in together before. Eren didn't smell nearly as bad as he did when he got home, and Levi grounded himself in the faint scent of him when he planted his nose against his neck below his ear for a testing sniff. “It’s getting better.”

  He ran his hands up Eren’s arms to sweat-slick shoulders and began kneading them.

  Eren hummed, dropping his head when Levi pressed his thumbs into the base of his neck. “I can’t believe how demanding baking bread could be on my body.”

  “You’ve had a tense week,” Levi said. “You’re holding it all in your back. You always do.”

  “Maybe.” Eren groaned softly when Levi massaged hard on a knot. “Sitting on a crate hiding under the window at lunch didn’t help either.”

  “Maybe tomorrow you can come back here to have lunch.”

  “I’ll try.” Eren rubbed the tops of Levi’s thighs. “I could sneak through the back.”

  “If anyone follows you, shut the door in their face.” Levi sighed. How he hoped the fascination would die off. It was good for sales, but the leering smiles, hawkish questions, and inquisitive looks were testing his patience. The last two days he’d scoured the day old gossip sections hoping to see something enthralling enough to snatch the interest away from him and Eren.

  Eren ran his fingertips up Levi’s legs and squeezed his hips. He sniggered when Levi released a sharp breath. “How was your day?” Eren asked.

  “It’s getting better.”

  Eren pressed back a little as he rolled his neck. “Did the customers irritate you the whole time?”

  “I ran out of Levi and Eren books today,” Levi mumbled absently while smoothing his palms down Eren’s back.

  Eren sank into the water deeper. Like he was hiding. “I don't understand why people want to read ‘em.”

  “Romance novels account for over half my sales. Add in hero worship, and something for the bitties to chatter about and they fly from my shelves.”

  “I browsed through some of them,” Eren whispered. “I don't remember everything, but they don't feel true.”

  “I told you they aren’t,” Levi said. “Stop looking at them. You’ll get grumpy.”

  “I sort of did.” Eren whimpered with relief as Levi worked his fingers either side of his spine. “I found a better book, and it’s not about us. Or maybe it’s us but in a different world.”

  “What is it?” Levi asked.

  “Worlds Apart,” Eren said. “It’s about an Eren and Levi who can’t be together. It’s sad.”

  “I know it,” Levi said. “It’s very old. Written long before The Catalyst. The names are likely coincidence, or they were changed and adapted after the Titan Wars to make it more popular. It’s a common trick to recycle ancient tales.”

  “It’s not just sex like the others.” Eren turned his head, looking at Levi over his shoulder. “It’s heart-wrenching, isn’t it?”

  “It is...” Levi trailed off as his hands stilled.

  Eren was silent. His brows pinched as he searched Levi’s face. “Levi?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Something is wrong,” Eren said tracing Levi’s cheekbone. “What is it?”

  Stiffening, Levi ran his hands down Eren’s shoulder blades, skimming his thumbs along the edges of bone and muscle. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because you look like you're holding in a shit when you’re bothered. And your lips get straight as a ruler.”

  Working the knot in Eren’s neck again, Levi pressed his face to the back of Eren’s head. He breathed him in until his chest hurt, centering himself before he asked, “Remember that asshole on the way to Duncan’s yesterday?”

  The water swished as Eren grabbed the washcloth. “That jerk on the corner?”

  “Yeah,” Levi said. “He came into the store today. His name is Eckhard.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He bought books,” said Levi, “but his selections were odd, and so was he.”

  Pulling away, Eren turned around and set his hands on Levi’s knees. He narrowed his eyes. “‘His selections?’”

  “He bought a lot of books about the Titan Wars and a couple about us.”

  “The ones full of fucking?” Eren looked incensed. His jaw was flexing, the artery in his neck was sticking out. Levi could see the pulse in it. He laid his hand over Eren’s good hand and squeezed it.

  “No, not those. Ones that are supposed to be historical.”

  “Maybe he likes history,” Eren said, though he sounded skeptical.

  “He knew my name.”

  Looking up, Eren stretched his mouth to the right. “Lots of people know your name.”

  “It was different. He wanted me to know he knew it.” Levi looked Eren in the eye. “There’s something else too...he’s an Ackerman.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Doesn’t need to. I’m an Ackerman even though it’s not my surname this time. I can tell.”

  “Mystical ‘Acker-powers?’”

  “Yes,” said Levi, rolling his eyes, “but other than my own families, I haven’t seen another Ackerman since The Catalyst.”

  “It could be nothing.”

  “I saw him in the museum too.” His eyes closed momentarily as he listened to water dripping from the faucet. “That’s why he seemed familiar yesterday. He was in the room when you punched the floor.”

  “Do you think he’s following us?”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t leave shit to chance.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Keep our eyes sharp for now.” Levi coaxed Eren back around and pulled him against his chest. He didn’t start rubbing Eren’s shoulders again, only wrapped his arms around him and rested his hands over his heart. “Do you know how to use a knife?”

  Eren slid his palms over Levi’s forearms, pausing to squeeze the muscles below his elbows. “For fighting?”

  “No, for cutting potatoes.”

  “Shut up,” Eren said, skimming his fingertips back down Levi’s arms. “A little.”

  Resting his cheek on Eren’s shoulder, Levi smiled and watched him draw circles over his wrist bones with the tips of his forefingers. “I’ll teach you again.”

  “You really think that’s necessary? I’m good with my fists.”

  “You'll need more than your fists.” Stilling Eren in his arms, Levi kissed the skin behind his ear. “You don’t remember it right now, but Ackermans are nothing to scoff at.”

  “I’ll read more out of the books.”

  Feeling Eren exhale, Levi stroked over his shoulders again, resuming his attention to his aching muscles. “I wonder if he remembers like I do. Maybe it’s an Ackerman thing.”

  “Who would he be though?” Eren asked. “Did he look like anyone from the past?”

  “No.”

  Eren splashed the surface of the water with his hand, sending droplets flying onto the floor. “Nothing’s ever easy for us, damn it!”

  “Sometimes it is.”

  “Do you think he really might be like you and me?” Eren asked. “Maybe he remembers us.”

  “It’s possible. But there was something off about Eckhard.”

  Eren leaned his head back against Levi's shoulder, resting his forearms across his knees. “I don’t like him,” he said, “and I don’t like waiting to see what he does. We should do something.”

  Levi nodded against Eren’s neck. “In other circumstances, I wouldn’t let him get away with it, but…” Levi gathered Eren’s hair in hands rather than tugging at his own. “He could be important.”

  “It sounds like he was toying with you.” Eren tried to turn around, but Levi had him trapped tight between his thighs. He laid his head back on Levi’s shoulder. “We should find him and confront him.”

  “Don’t be impatient,” Levi said quietly, running a hand down the length of Eren’s torso and resting it below his navel.

  Eren went rather limp. Levi knew well how to distract him. He leaned forward and kissed Eren’s collarbone, hearing a sharp intake of air. Encouraged, Levi left another and said, “Don’t worry about it tonight.”

  “Levi…” Eren shook his head, stretching his neck. He wasn’t overly excited. He didn’t try and nudge Levi’s hand between his legs or grind himself back against him.

  Eren was hard, Levi could see it, feel it when the current in the bathwater bumped the head of Eren’s cock into the back of his hand. Despite that, Eren only went more boneless with a relaxed exhale as Levi burned a path of soft kisses from his shoulder to his ear.

  The bath water felt cool as Levi’s body warmed. The tops of his thighs tingled where Eren dug his fingertips in. Heat built low in his stomach when Eren shifted against his half-hard cock. He ignored it and nipped at Eren’s jaw. It wasn’t what either of them needed now.

  “Ah...I,” Eren breathed. “Levi just- we have to...talk...it’s important…”

  “Not now,” Levi said against Eren’s skin. For the first time, he had Eren at his mercy and not the other way around. He could unravel him just a little with kisses. “Relax.”

  He felt Eren nod as he brushed his lips under his jaw, dragging the tip of his tongue across his skin. Eren tasted and smelled just like he should, the bath water having rinsed away the dirty layer which obscured him earlier. Levi didn’t want to think of Eckhard anymore. He wanted Eren to smile as his worries slipped away. Levi felt them drifting further with each scrape of teeth, each press of his lips, and mumble against Eren’s flesh.

  When Levi was sure Eren would stay calm, he took his lips. They kissed until Levi was covered in goosebumps. At Levi’s first shiver, Eren pulled away with one last peck to the tip of his nose before they began scrubbing each other.

  “I’ll wipe up the water,” Eren said as he stood from the tub. “And get the dirty clothes.”

  Tying his robe, Levi nodded and went to the dresser.

  A few minutes later, Levi was sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched Eren as he came from the washroom sans towel, striding into the bedroom naked. He ignored the pajamas Levi had set on his side of the bed. Instead, Eren picked up the blanket he was becoming so attached to and stretched. Levi failed to avert his gaze. He stared, taking in the lines of Eren’s long legs, the way the soft hairs that covered them caught the firelight. His eyes traveled up to his slender fingers reaching toward the ceiling, before pausing at a love bite on his neck then sliding down the planes of his back to the curve of his backside.

  “Like what you see?” Eren asked, scratching his fingers through damp, messy hair.

  Levi pulled his bathrobe tighter, putting his back to Eren as his cheeks began to burn. “Maybe,” he muttered under his breath. He wasn’t really ogling Eren, more appreciating him, his presence, seeing him just out of the bath. He was a trinity of beauty; strong, daring, and free. Standing there whole and real, glowing golden-tan in the light from the hearth.

  It was deeper than a simple glance and thoughts of pleasure. Minuscule things still caught Levi off guard. They were too profound and ponderous. Shadows, highlights, the texture of Eren’s smooth skin pulled taut over the dips and curves of long, lean muscles.

  “I left your pajamas for you.”

  “Don't want them,” Eren said.

  Levi looked over his shoulder, watching Eren wrap himself in his blanket before he glanced down at his own nightshirt folded in his lap.

  He felt the bed dip. Eren’s arms slid from behind then loosened the tie of his robe. His hand found its way inside and pressed flat against Levi’s ribs. Then Eren’s lips were on his nape, the fingers of his other hand brushing the spot under his left ear. Levi allowed himself a tiny, secret smile as he choked on his breath.

  “You think I’m pretty,” Eren whispered against his skin, sounding so sure of himself. Simultaneously cocky and sweet.

  Levi nodded. Eren was beautiful to him. Moreso for all the reasons he may not be to another. For his long, trim limbs still filling out and messy hair, his eternally cracked lip, and that stupidly gorgeous, shit eating grin he could feel planted against the back of his neck.

  “Will you tell me?” It wasn’t desperate or demanding, though Levi could hear the soft plea laced in it.

  His fingers squeezed Eren’s forearm around his waist. Levi scoffed. “Pushy brat.” He clicked his tongue and whispered, “Greedy as always.”

  “Yeah.” Eren drew Levi closer and kissed his ear. “Please.”

  Taking Eren’s hand and bringing it to his lips, Levi relented. He kissed Eren's knuckles and murmured, “Beautiful” against them.

  Eren’s arm tightened around him. “You hate saying it,” he said, though there was amusement in his tone.

  “I don’t.” Why did his face feel like it was on fire every time he uttered something like that? So many lives, so many kisses and quiet moments. He could take Eren, allow himself to be taken by him, but those little fucking platitudes always wanted to hang in his throat.

  “It’s all right,” Eren said, nuzzling against Levi’s neck. “I like to hear it, but they don't come for you.”

  Levi shook his head.

  “I can say all the stupid things for both of us.” Eren pushed Levi’s robe off his shoulders and pressed his hand to the center of his chest. “Can we sleep like this?” he asked. “Like we used to.”

  Turning, Levi nodded. He darted forward, kissing a whine out of Eren’s mouth. It was surprised and breathy as Eren’s lips parted against his.

 _‘Soon,’_ Levi thought, feeling Eren’s want beneath his restraint. Soon he would take Eren apart. Dismantle him until he lost himself, then stitch him back together. When Levi’s thoughts weren't distracted. When he could give Eren all his attention, just as he deserved. When he could take his time. When he could use his tongue, teeth, and hands to rediscover every spot on Eren’s body that made him writhe.

  For tonight, holding Eren against his skin, listening to his heartbeat, and feeling him warm and there and alive was enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated. <3


	16. Chapter 16

  It had been over two weeks without surprises, free of news from Barney about any Eckhard sightings. Leaving days of comfortable domestic routine and ritual. Shared breakfasts, Eren home for his afternoon break, and Levi rubbing Eren’s achy back in the tub after he returned for the day. Evenings were spent playing chess, reading, and talking over tea, then Eren falling asleep with his book, ‘Worlds Apart’ in his hands each night after he worked, his head most often slumping onto Levi’s arm or shoulder. He still had dreams, but nothing so overwhelming he left the bed or woke Levi most of the time.

  Levi had foregone lunch with Eren that day. Though it left an emptiness blooming in the depth of his chest as he reflected on the peace of the past half month, there were errands that needed to be run. It was important for Levi to keep the flat as regular as he could. Stocked with good food, tea, and ordinary household items. He had already visited Chester, the apothecary. Then the butcher, Oswin for sausages and rabbit. The final stop was Sarah’s sweet shop.

  He walked the last half of the block with quick steps, the satchel slung over his shoulder filled with goodness, and a smile hidden behind a comfortably bored expression.

  Eren needed something sugary. Only a small treat. Something which would ease a grin out of him and no doubt lead to extra evening snuggles.

  When he stepped inside the candy store, he was greeted by the scent of chocolates, boiling syrup, dried fruits, and nuts. Eren’s mouth would be watering, but for Levi, it was only overbearing. Cloying and treacly in his nose. Making his tongue sticky like he’d been chewing tar on a hot August day. He swallowed it down, finding increment relief as he moved toward the case displaying the lollies. Pretty in the afternoon sun, catching the light. Their imperfect surfaces casting rainbows around the shop over the light varnish of the wooden floor and paneled walls.  

  Sarah, a woman in her early twenties who Levi knew from buying chocolate for cocoa, gave him a smile as she brushed red hair from her brow. She kept to her work, focusing green eyes duller than Eren’s on the caramels she was boxing. Beyond offering a polite, “Hello,” she didn’t interfere or engage Levi in conversation.

  Releasing a relieved breath when she didn’t prod, Levi perused what was on offer. Eren fancied humbugs, especially the fruity variety. He’d crunch on them until they stuck in his teeth and his kisses tasted like picking berries on a summer day. They were lined up on a shelf, different shapes, and colors, looking like handfuls of gems stashed in little, glass urns for safe keeping. He spied a jar of deep purple hard candies. Pinched at the ends and twisted.

  “Those blackberry?” Levi asked and pointed.

  Sarah pulled her head up from her task, turning to look behind her shoulder where Levi was indicating. Her eyes fell on a container of violet candies as she spun and walked to the shelves. She tapped the lid. “These?” she asked in a voice that made her sound younger than she was.

  “Those.”

  “They are,” she said grasping Levi’s selection with delicate fingers. Turning, she placed them on the counter. “From my father’s harvest last summer. Tart and rich, very sweet too. You can taste the good growing season in them.”

  Levi raised a brow, skeptical. “Really?”

  “Truly!” she said and bounced on her feet. “Good rains early in June, and strong sun at the peak. The temperatures just warm enough. The fields were bursting with berries. Big ones too,” she added.

  Levi wasn’t sure Eren would taste the difference. It was sugar, after all. He picked up the jar and turned it over in his hand.

  “Fancy a sample?” asked Sarah.

  “Not necessary,” Levi said, halting a wrinkle from creasing his nose. “I’ll take them.”

  “That all?” Sarah asked. “No chocolate?”

  Levi shook his head.

  “That’s right!” she said. “Eren bought a pound last he was in.”

  Muttering an, “Indeed,” Levi’s toes curled in his boots as his cheeks warmed against his will. Eren had kept a steady flow of supplies for hot cocoa coming to the flat since receiving his first bit of pay. The past three Thursdays he’d come home later than usual with cream and cocoa, a prideful and kind expression softening his features when he walked through the door.

  She gave him a half wink. “You should be well stocked for now.”

  “Yes.” Levi crossed his arms, cutting off further conversation of cocoa or Eren. “But…”

  To his right, was a case stuffed with piles of handmade confections. Finely decorated chocolates, candied fruits, clusters of nuts, and caramels. At the end, he noticed several varieties of sugarplums.

  With a minute twitch of his lips, Levi recalled the cushion of his leather chair strewn with a dusting of sugar crumbs. Then scowling at a seventeen-year-old Eren for snacking on the sweetmeats in his favorite spot and leaving a mess. His pants had been a disaster when he stood up. Saccharine, sticky crystalline firmly stuck to his ass. The handle of the teapot and his favorite teacup were besmirched as well.

  Eren had raised his eyes in surprise when he’d come back to their quarters, and Levi scolded him. His mouth and chin displaying the evidence of his binge, but he only smiled and apologized then retrieved the cleaning supplies.

  Levi sighed as his eyes fell on Eren’s favorite kind. Nuts covered in a sickly coating of cooked sugar and sprinkled with more only to make it worse. Eren would drop the crumbs everywhere, and Levi would have to follow him with the broom.

  “A dozen of these,” he said with a nod, certain he would regret the decision by eight in the evening.

  Sarah choose the best pieces, placing them on a sheet of waxed parchment. She said nothing while humming to herself and giving Levi a knowing smile when she enclosed the wrapped candy in a tin and opened a drawer below the counter. She ran her fingers across its width. Over something, Levi couldn’t see. A concentrated frown wrinkling her brow until she found what she was seeking. She let out a breathy, “Oh!” while her cheeks pressed up in a broad smile.

  Her hand dove into the drawer, plucking out a green ribbon between her thumb and forefinger. She stretched her arm ceiling-ward and cut it with a quick swish of the knife which had been left on the counter. Then she tied the unnecessary virescent strip around Eren’s gift, fashioning the loose ends into a perfect bow.

  Releasing a long breath, she admired her work endearingly as she primped and adjusted the loops of satin. “There,” was all she said with brief eye contact as she slid Levi’s two selections next to each other with a tingy clink.

  Levi would have pinched his temples were no one there to see it. Instead, he took out his billfold as Sarah added up the amount with a pencil on a scratch pad. She held his gaze for two seconds too long before she gave him the total.

  He didn’t say anything as he took out three bills. She knew, but Levi would offer nothing. She was Trost’s most popular confectionery. Gossips, little knowings, and secrets slipped through the crack under the door and carried with the scent of caramelized sugar in Sarah’s. Surpassing even the cinnamon and apples in Dahlia’s bakery or the pollen in Eli’s floral shop.  

  Sarah made change and dropped four coins in Levi’s hand. Her eyes were honest above curling lips. An expression which assured, “I won’t tell anyone.”

  With a softly terse nod, Levi offered a, “Thank you,” took his purchases, and left.

  He deposited Eren’s treats in his satchel when he was back on the street, mindful not to destroy Sarah’s bow. He looked left then right, hiding Eren’s gift away like a stolen treasure, then closed the leather flap on his bag with care.

  Levi didn’t think about reopening the bookstore on the way home. Three-quarters of the way there, it struck him he thought only of Eren. There were books to be stocked, shelves to be dusted. Always scrubbing and cleaning. There were price tags to be check and changed, and yet, what occupied Levi’s mind as his boots navigated ice, snow, and haphazard piles of slush left by lazy shopkeepers were visions of gifting Eren with candy and seeing his next loaf of bread.

  Eren had been so excited and dear the evening before. He and Dahlia had set pumpernickel to bake in jars five days before. ‘A secret operation’ Eren had called it in a hushed tone when he had returned home that night. Only a half dozen loaves. One for him and Levi, the others for Dahlia, Barney, and a few select customers. Eren had been too bouncy to see it after it rested to fall asleep the night before or read that heartbreaking book he was so invested in crying over. Levi was impressed he had slept at all. When Eren woke, he had rushed through breakfast and bathing, then cut their morning short with an extra long parting kiss and left to check how his bread was doing.

  Levi’s eyes slid to the shop fronts as he locked the memory away, though not so far he could never retrieve it.

  He was nearing home, and the streets were filling with afternoon shoppers. At the vegetable cart a block and a half from the bookstore, he bought chard, parsnips, and brussels sprouts on impulse. Eren wasn’t keen on the latter, but Levi would season them well. With plenty of salt and pepper and cook them with rich duck fat and chestnuts.

  Continuing toward home, his boots clomped with faint echoes as he made it to his block. He was crosswise from the shop. The bakery was across the street. Levi looked up at it, feeling warmth against the crisp air when he pictured Eren inside among the ovens and sweet desserts. Then he envisioned Eren returning home later to the flat, his expression as he took the stupid little bow off his tin of sugarplums that night.

  Levi waited among townsfolk and chattering old ladies for the detestable carriages to finish flying past. One almost hit another causing the drivers to stop and lean out their windows, jeering while they shook their meaty fists at each other. Still more went by, weaving around the altercation, so Levi searched for another route back home. He saw an opening and crossed toward the hatters, dodging a puddle where the cobblestone was broken and sinking into the street.

  When he was almost to the curb, his attention was drawn. With needle-sharp focus, he squinted his eyes, looking past mist from the storm drain. His fingers went stiff around the strap of his satchel. In the window, on a rack taller than Levi’s head was a hat. It was black. Neat and new with a straight brim, perfect and blade-like at its edge. Eckhard’s hat was the same, though dented in two places on the left side. Levi peered through the glass into the store, expecting to see him creep out from behind a display. His jaw clenched tight enough it hurt. Eckhard hadn’t resurfaced yet, but Levi thought of him. Thought of him coming back to the shop or visiting the bakery.

  He frowned, recalling him knocking into Eren’s shoulder. What if Eckhard tried to do something to him? It wasn’t as if Eren had never been a target before. Then he remembered rescuing Eren from the mouth of that giant bitch so long ago, Eren with no arms and legs, Eren chained up in an underground cave screaming “Captain” with streaks of dried tears on his face and blood running down over his eyes.

  Levi squeezed the satchel’s leather in his hand. It bit his palm like nasty, sharp teeth. He glared at the hat once more and stifled a sneer before he turned his head toward home and hurried across the street in the most dignified manner he could muster. He went upstairs to the flat. Put the food away in the pantry, the items from the apothecary in the bedroom, the rolls of paper for the toilet in the bathroom cupboard, and sighed. What a waste of money those were when there should be scraps of old newspaper to use.

  Last, he set Eren’s presents at the corner of the kitchen table on Eren’s side, arranging them neatly. The green bow on the tin caught his eye. He tried to glower at it. He tried to scowl at how perfect it was. He tried to tell himself the color didn’t remind him of Eren’s eyes, and it didn’t catch the light in a similar way. He tried to convince himself that the thoughtful wrapping didn’t make it even better than it was to begin with. He tried to lie to himself and think it wasn’t as beautiful as he knew Eren would find it.

  He went downstairs and reopened the store, smelling bread from the bakery and Eren’s scent lingering on his shirt. He rang up totals and answered too many questions, enduring inquisitive busy-bodies while scrutinizing every man in a dark coat or hat as they passed by on the street. No Eckhard far and wide.

  At a quarter after two, when the last customer from the mid-afternoon rush left, Levi locked the door and turned the sign to ‘closed.’ He didn’t lean on the door as the tension began to drain. Instead, he took the money from the register and locked in it his safe while stealing glances at the corner diagonal.

  After trudging up the stairs with longing in his heart and goosebumps on his flesh, he closed the door to what felt like ‘almost home’ with a soft click and stretched his right hand. It had been balled in a fist. The crack of his knuckles resounded in the emptiness of the flat. He stared at his feet and sucked in a breath, then took off his shoes, setting them next to the spot on the mat where Eren’s worn, old boots sat in the evenings.

  Cocking his head, Levi looked at the table. Other than the bowl Eren had set in its center and filled with dried flowers and pine cones, it was empty save for Eren’s gifts.

  Levi’s fingers beat against his leg. He inhaled, pressing air through his teeth with a centering hiss and rolled up his sleeves. There was a thick, homey chowder to prepare, chores to do, and knives to sharpen. Also Eren’s ‘Secret Operation Amazing Pumpernickel’ to consider. It was worthy of something better than simple roasted vegetables, ordinary sausages, or a meal whipped up last moment. Worthy of a savory topping and boiling soup which required careful cooking for a few hours. Something delicious, overflowing with meticulously cut ingredients, rich meat, and stirred with careful attention every ten minutes.

  Still, the muscles over Levi’s shoulder blades were cramping, and his neck was stiff. There were movements his body craved to make. Ones he couldn't execute without his old gear or at least some kind of weapon clutched in his tingling fingers. Instead of fantasizing about carving answers from flesh, he took out the cutting board and vegetable cleaver.

  Levi examined the tool in his hand for a moment. He tested the sharpness of its edge with a scrape down the length of his fingernail, then set it on the counter, turned on the faucet, and added a log to the fire in the stove.

  When the produce from the cart was clean, he began chopping, transfixed by flashes of silver biting into tender vegetables. He sauteed them, adding water and more butter before searing the meat, then made himself tea while he waited. Once dinner was simmering, Levi poured cream into the big, cast iron pot, and tapped the spoon on the rim with a satisfied crease in his left cheek.

  He drained his cup of calming Valerian, then he gathered his whetstone, oil, and blades, and set them on the kitchen table.

  Eckhard, though unseen for the last two and a half weeks, was still lurking somewhere. Levi could feel it under his skin, down to his marrow sometimes. A tingling sensation that settled too deep to grasp but too close to ignore. He pulled four knives from their hiding places in the flat. One from under the couch, from behind the toilet tank, under the bed, and beneath his pillow.  

  Lastly, Levi unfastened the dagger from underneath the kitchen table. He eyed the durable metal as he felt its weight in his hand. Familiar and knowable. Security. He hefted it in his upturned palm. Eren needed a knife like this. Perfectly balanced with a handle sized for his big, beautiful hands.

  This was the most suitable of his blades for Eren. It would work best for Eren’s fighting style.

  They had been training since Eckhard came to the bookstore, though Eren would never be the precise rapier Levi was in battle. He was blunter, mostly overcoming an enemy by sheer force and will. He didn’t always map out his movements ahead of time as Levi did, leaving him little time during a fight to consider which side was the sharp edge of his blade.

  With that in mind, Levi first went to work on the dirk for Eren. His muscles bunched and stretched satisfyingly with the movement, smooth strokes over stone, his brow tweaking above his nose as concentration took him.

  Levi spent the next two hours honing, oiling, and cleaning blades. Paying careful attention to the dagger he would gift to Eren. Only interrupting his chore to punctiliously check on their supper as was needed before returning to his task.

  At five past six, precisely on time, Levi heard the door in the back room below open and shut, some shuffling, then quick, thunderous steps. The sounds washed away the tightness in his body more than Valerian tea or routine work ever could.

  When the door unlocked and opened, Eren looked as if he were in a state. His mouth was slightly agape, breaths coming faster from having taken the stairs two at a time as quick as he could. “Why is the shop closed?”

  “Other things to do,” Levi said, setting the knife he was stropping on the table. He gestured toward the packages of treats sitting amongst oil, knives, whetstones, and rags. “Those are for you.”

  Eren moved closer, still holding his lunch pail in his hand and a small parcel in his arms. “You closed early to give me candy?”

  “No.”

  Eren eyed the pot on the stove. “To make dinner?”

  Levi shook his head.

  “To hone knives?”

  “They needed it.”

  Eren set his things down, only glancing at his gifts with a glint in his eyes before he was crouching beside Levi sitting in his chair and winding his arms around him. “Something’s bothering you again.”

  Poking Levi’s nose with his own, Eren prodded when Levi only huffed and set the razor strop down. Then Eren kissed him, slow and tender before he pulled back and looked at him. “Did you see Eckhard again?”

  “No.” Levi’s fingers twitched near the knife handle, but he slid them away, turned into Eren’s embrace, and held him instead. Eren’s coat twisted in his hands near his shoulder, and Levi buried his face in Eren’s neck, closing his eyes. He concentrated on rough stubble grazing his cheek and fingertips scratching the back of his head and dragging him closer.

  “Then what?”

  It was only a hat. A stupid, sharp brimmed hat. Levi brooded on it just for a moment, recalling Eckhard’s face, his sneer, and his gravelly voice. Still, Eren’s voice was more mesmerizing. As were his smiles against his cheek, and his gentle pokes at his knee. “Nothing. Was work good?”

  Eren pulled back and frowned as he smoothed Levi’s brow. “Long and tiring getting ready for Sunday, but good.”

  “How about the Secret Operation Amazing Pumpernickel?” Levi jerked his chin toward the little parcel Eren had left on the counter.

  Eren’s lips curved like a bow, his cheeks pressing up so high his eyes were nearly closed. “I haven’t tasted it yet...but Dahlia said it looks good. I could have had a sample of hers, but I wanted to wait.”

  “There’s pickled cabbage in the pantry,” Levi suggested. “That would be good with it.”

  “Not too much or you won’t want to sleep in the same bed with me tonight.”

  Levi snorted. “I’d die in my sleep?”

  “No doubt,” Eren said, snickering.

  Levi looked down where Eren’s hand was resting on his knee and skimmed his thumb over his knuckles. “Working tomorrow?”

  “No, Dahlia’s nieces will be there this week.” Eren’s eyes slid to his candy on the table then back to Levi. “Dahlia said I looked tired and need at least one day off a week. Maybe two.”

  Levi warmed, his chest feeling like it was filled up with butterflies. Last Sunday Eren was at the bakery half the day, and Levi was left to his cleaning tasks alone. The week before that, they retrieved the rest of Eren’s things from his old rented room and contended with irritating townsfolk there and back. This was the first week they could spend at home together all day. Eat a hearty breakfast of porridge before sliding into a leisurely Sunday of shared chores, then some well-deserved laziness, capped off with a scrumptious dinner. Something they couldn’t make unless they had the entire afternoon. After that, chess and tea, holding Eren in the tub before falling asleep cuddled under the blankets.

  Levi shook away the too big smile beginning to claim his expression. “Open it.” He nodded at the candy.

  “You even had it wrapped.” Eren stood. He turned toward the door but not quick enough to hide his flushing cheeks. “Let me get this crap off first. I didn’t take off my shoes either.”

  Levi glanced a trail of mini puddles leading from the door. “You know where the mop is.”

  Smirking over his shoulder, Eren removed his outerwear then set his boots on the mat next to Levi’s. Even and symmetrical to the corner just as Levi appreciated; like soldiers lined up in a row. He put his hat on the rack, sat at the table, and grabbed for the jar of humbugs, grinning like a child.

  “Blackberry?” Eren asked.

  “You can taste the ‘good growing season in them.’” Levi didn’t roll his eyes. “So Sarah says.”

  “Of course you can.” Eren unscrewed the cap, wasting no time digging out a humbug and sticking it in his mouth. His eyes lit up like jewels prettier than the candies he was simpering at. Staring at them like they were worth as much as the amethysts they resembled. He moved on to the sugarplums. Flashing a tiny smile before he slid the tin in front of him and ran his fingertips over the bow. He didn’t undo it, but slipped it from around the small metal box, flicked his eyes to Levi, and gently set it to the side.

  Levi watched with a warm curl in his chest as Eren removed the lid. He didn’t say anything right away, and Levi wasn’t sure Eren’s mouth could function for speech with how wide it was spread. His hands clutched the sides of the tin, thumbs tracing its edges. “Sugarplums. These are-”

  “Your favorite.”

  “They’re perfect.” Eren plucked one up and lifted it between his forefinger and thumb, dropping crumbs on the table as he squinted one eye and examined it. “I want one now.”

  “Then eat it.”

  “But dinner.”

  “You’re not five.” Levi tried to stop it, but he couldn’t help letting go of a half snort. “Just don’t eat them all yet. I made soup.”

  Levi stood, stomach churning, reminding him he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Eren caught his hand as he passed by on his way to the stove, and Levi looked down at sunshine beaming up at him.

  “Thanks,” Eren said. There was more unspoken in his eyes. “Thanks for the treats” sinking behind a thousand other “thank you’s” Levi wasn’t sure he was worthy of.

  “Don’t give yourself a stomach ache.”

  Eren released Levi’s hand. “I’m not going to eat them all tonight.” He began rearranging the evidence of Levi’s diligence and protectiveness strewn over the tabletop, making room for dinner. “That smells too good to skip supper for candy.”

  Levi stirred their meal while listening to Eren shuffle around. The grounding scrape of chair legs shifted across wooden planks, then the creak of the cleaning closet door being opened and the thunk of the bucket on the floor. “You don’t have to mop it.”

  “But you said-”

  “A wet rag is good enough.” Levi took two bowls from the cabinet. “We have to mop tomorrow either way.”

  “Good,” Eren said, moving over to the sink to wet a rag, “because I want to show you my bread.”

  Levi grasped Eren’s wrist. “Screw the floor for now and wash your hands.”

  Eren looked at him confused.

  “I’d rather see your bread.”

  “Oh!” Eren tossed the rag across the kitchen and into the bucket, scrubbed his hands, then turned toward the little bundle still wrapped on the counter. He looked at Levi then down at the lump secured in cloth.

  “Let’s take a look,” Levi said.

  When Eren uncovered it, Levi saw a perfect little cylinder of pumpernickel. Levi could smell it; sweet and nutty. It was a rich chestnut color, dense when he pressed a finger to it and had what looked to be the perfect amount of sunflower seeds in it.

  Eren was wringing his hands over the loaf, but he looked proud. His eyes were doing that twinkling thing in the warm light from the lamps that made Levi want to say “fuck dinner” and merely hold Eren and look at them until he could figure out how to live inside them.

  “This is the best loaf I’ve ever had a hand in making,” Eren said, leaning in closer to appreciate it.

  “You may have found your calling.”

  “You think?”

  Levi nodded and handed Eren a knife. “You do the honors.”

  

*****

 

  Eren didn’t touch his candy through supper. He eyed the jar and tin often, though slid his focus back to his meal without stealing a treat each time. He ate almost three slices of bread and took a second serving of soup while Levi mainly stirred his smaller helping with his spoon, satisfying his appetite indulging in Eren’s wonderfully filling bread.

  “Tea, bath, and bed?” Eren asked.

  “We’re still training tonight,” Levi said, watching Eren stretch and reach for candy as if dishes was all there was left to do.

  Eren sighed, letting his head drop back. He rubbed his eyes. “Can we please do something else. Just for one night? My feet hurt.”

  “No combat practice,” Levi said. “Only maintenance.”

  Eren groaned. “Were you this stern when you were my captain?” He glared at Levi, but there was a light taunt to it. “Because I don’t remember you being so strict.”

  “You don’t remember drills then.”

  “No.” Eren ate another humbug, cracking it between his teeth with rosy cheeks and a suggestive glint in his eyes. “Unless ‘drills’ meant something different then.”

  “Tch.” Levi stood, looked Eren over, and collected the dirtied dishes with a snort. Cheeky brat.

  Eren didn’t back off while they cleaned. He always bumped into Levi as he rinsed and dried, but never at such constant. He tried to talk Levi into a game of chess first, but Levi was firm in teaching Eren to properly hone a knife. For the most part, and to Levi’s surprise, Eren didn’t try to tempt him into kisses or a long back rub while they were in the tub.

  Eren washed quickly, almost eager to depart the steamy, scented water.

  After drying and changing into pajamas, they sat at the table, Levi going over the finer points of knife maintenance while Eren nodded his head and clicked candies against his teeth. He made weird little slurping noises too. Something Levi would have found annoying if anyone else were doing it.

  Eren crunched the piece in his mouth to bits then grinned. “I don't think I have the angle exactly right,” he said holding his jackknife against the oilstone.

  Levi adjusted Eren’s hand. “Like this.”

  Eren wrapped his thumb over Levi’s, trapping him. His eyes shone with playfulness as he watched Levi then swallowed a mouthful of pulverized humbug. “You’re a good teacher.”

  “You’re listening well today.”

  “Do I get a reward?”

  “You already did,” Levi said, motioning at the candies. “You just got it early.”

  “I want another one too.”

  “Finish sharpening your knife.”

  Eren released Levi and dug back into his task. He made a show of letting his shoulders fall as if Levi had told him to clean horse shit from stables, but there was a determined crease in his brow as he slid his eyes back to the whetstone, holding his knife the same way Levi had demonstrated. Levi’s chest swelled as he turned his attention back to stropping, watching Eren work from beneath his fringe.

  They didn’t speak much, though Eren paused every so often to take another piece of candy before he turned his attention back to his blade. His eyes were narrowed, his tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration when he wasn’t toying with the candy in his mouth or trying to flirt with Levi. When he was finished, he wiped down his knife with a rag, cleaning and polishing it, before he held it toward Levi, handle first.

  “How did I do?” Eren asked with an upward nudge of his head. “Look.”

  Levi accepted it along with a lingering brush of Eren’s fingers. He held it near the lamp for light, eyeing the bevel, tilting the blade back and forth and sighting down the length of it. He tested it on the pad of his thumb, humming when it carved smooth and shallow into the thin callous there. Levi knew it would slice through a sheet of parchment if he tried, though he didn’t want to dull Eren’s hard work. “Not bad.”

  “It’s my best so far,” Eren said, taking his knife back as Levi returned it to him.

  “So it is.”

  “Can we be done now?” Eren poked Levi’s foot with his toe, looking at him with a weary grin. “I didn’t half-ass it.”

  “You didn’t, you were a good boy.”

  Eren blushed, biting back a needy little sound before he snatched another candy then ducked his head and stood. He brushed his fingers along the back of Levi’s waist when they passed on the way to the cleaning closet. Bumping their hips and arms together as they gathered the knives then began picking everything else up.

  Levi could play this game too. He caught each of Eren’s looks with the slightest smirk as they tidied the flat. Eren observing him over his shoulder with a hungrily bashful expression, taking in the length of Levi as he stretched up on his tiptoes and opened the cabinet to stow supplies away. Levi bending over the table to wipe away dirt and drips of oil which had soiled the surface. Eren grinning with rosy cheeks and spritely eyes when Levi made them their before-bed pot of tea, then cranked the phonograph and set the needle to play.

  They ended up on the sofa, sipping tea, inching closer to each other as they listened to the piano and violins from the gramophone.

  Eren tossed his sixth sugarplum in his mouth. “The last one I swear,” he mumbled with it stuffed in his cheek. “I want to savor the rest.”

  Levi couldn’t help his smile. “Are you able?” he asked. Eren had already eaten his way through half of what Levi bought.

  Eren’s cheeks were dimpled with his delight as he shifted, turning toward Levi on the couch and pressing his knee into the side of Levi’s thigh. Then he moved closer, almost bumping their noses together. “Maybe,” he said, blinking at Levi.

  There was sugar all over Eren’s mouth and some on his chin, perhaps his jaw too. Little crystals sparkling in the firelight along with his eyes.

  “Beautiful,” Levi murmured.  

  His next breath came with a hum as he swiped bits from the edge of Eren’s lip with his thumb.

  Eren looked at Levi’s hand as Levi pulled it toward his mouth to taste. Then he let out a squeaky gasp and licked the rest from his bottom lip. His eyes were glinting, timidly mischievous, his tongue peeking out once more, about to clean away what was left.

  That wouldn’t do. The brat had been flirting all night. Poking Levi’s toe with his own, shooting him coquettish glances while he worked on his knife, playing with his candies between lips stained the prettiest purple. Eren had been mistaken when he thought he was the one who would have someone crumbling beneath him that night.

  Levi grasped Eren’s chin, smirking when he rasped a stunned “Oh fuck,” then lead Eren’s mouth to his own. He pressed Eren down on the cushions swallowing a yelped “Ah!” Sweetness bursting on his tongue when he bit Eren’s lip and held his face between his hands.

  Eren’s fingers were digging into Levi’s shoulders. Scraping down with blunt nails to squeeze his biceps. He was groaning, lifting his hips and trapping Levi between his thighs. Levi pushed back, wanting to get them to the bed, though he couldn’t bear to pull his mouth away. Eren was like life in the midst of winter’s sleep. Bright and glowing and spirited. Levi could taste his want, feel his need when Eren chased his tongue back into his mouth as he tried to speak.

  Levi attempted to move, caged by Eren’s limbs. Eren was so strong. Clinging and clamped to him. Wrapping himself around Levi and hooking his ankles behind his knees for leverage.

  Levi clung right back. Hard and aching, bruising their mouths, trying to snake his hands between their bodies and get to Eren’s pajama top.  

  The rare times Levi was like this, he wondered if it was how it was like to be in Eren’s skin. With frenzied fingers working to unfasten arguing buttons, hips jerking; uneven and thoughtless into a thigh or hip. Lips seeking more of something they already had. Levi needed so much his teeth hurt with it.

  Eren’s fingers gripped the hair on the back of Levi’s head as he tried to break their kiss, holding him fast to his searching lips. They needed to move. They needed space. They needed to shed confining clothes. Eren squeezed Levi tighter when Levi said his name, too wrapped up to heed his suggestions mumbled into his mouth.

   _‘Fuck it,’_ Levi thought, sliding his hands down to Eren’s hips. They jumped in his hands before crashing up into him.

  Good.

  He used Eren’s needful twisting and his own strength to his advantage, sitting up, and hoisting Eren into his lap.

  Eren peered down at Levi breathless. Shocked eyes under heavy lids, watching him. He was panting. Scraping his teeth across his lip. Grinding down as much as Levi’s grasp would allow. Levi stroked his hands over Eren’s ass, stretching up to mumble, “Calm down, bedroom” against his chin.

  Trying to get more friction, Eren nodded, though he didn’t stand. “It’s hard.”

  On the inside, Levi was grinning when he brushed his knuckles over where Eren’s pants were tented, then said, “So it is.”

  Eren’s cheeks flushed up to his ears. Levi repressed a smirk, though he felt almost giddy. The tickle of a laugh scratched inside his chest, attempting to escape. Eren was wiggling in his lap with kiss shiny lips looking desperate for anything Levi would give, and yet, this made him bashfully squirm.

  “Mine’s a little bigger,” Eren blurted out, reaching between Levi’s legs.

  Levi lifted a brow. “That’s not saying much.” He looked at Eren’s hand before he flicked his eyes back up. “Besides, it’s not the size that matters.”

  Eren’s expression morphed from roguish to affectionate. He squeezed Levi through his nightclothes. “I like it.”

  Prodding Eren to stand up, Levi reached on tiptoes to kiss him. Better to silence his silly mouth just long enough to get to the bedroom. He grasped the front of Eren’s pajamas and guided him around the table, then in the direction of the doorway. Eren’s eyes were closed, though Levi kept one of his own open as he tried to navigate. They nearly tripped twice blundering into each other’s feet, then Eren bumped his head on the door frame, slamming his teeth into Levi’s.

  “Ow,” Eren said, grinning against the top of Levi’s head as he rubbed his own. “I think I chipped my tooth.”

  “Let me see.” Levi leaned back and pushed up Eren’s lip. A tiny corner was missing from one in the front. “It’s little.”

  “Doesn’t hurt,” Eren assured, and pulled Levi tight to him again. “Don’t care now either.”

  Levi stifled his chuckle against Eren’s neck. “Almost there,” he said, pressing Eren backward with careful steps.

  When Eren’s legs hit the bed, Levi moved slowly, following him down to the mattress. He didn’t straddle Eren or roll them over. They arranged themselves side by side. Legs tangled. Watching each other. One of Levi’s hands found shirt buttons while the other pulled at the tie in Eren’s hair as he shivered. “Cold?” Levi asked as he ran his fingers through the locks he’d just freed, soft and silky in his hand.

  Eren shook his head as if Levi would refuse to strip them if he were. He pulled at Levi’s clothes with fingers more confident and lighter than the night he needed their intimacy for comfort. “You?” he asked, stopping midway as he pushed Levi’s nightshirt up his torso.

  Levi could feel the cool air of the room on his heated back. He wanted to see Eren. No blankets or sheets obscuring him or tangling around their legs. “No.”

  Removing clothes while laying on the bed wasn’t simple. They found their way up to their knees through clumsy kisses and nips of teeth, letting their pajamas stay where they fell. Most ended up on the quilt. Beneath Eren when he laid back on the bed, his hair strewn over the pillow like a disordered halo as Levi hovered over him and just looked.

  Levi readjusted his hips, feeling Eren down the length of his body and watched Eren’s eyes fall shut.

  “Ah! Levi...”

  Levi brushed his thumb over Eren’s cheek and kissed his neck. “What do you want?”

  Eren’s eyes opened for only a moment as he grasped the back of Levi’s head and dragged him up. He kissed him with lips and whimpers and so much ‘I need you’ Levi’s breath caught in his chest.

  Levi should be the one missing _them_ , but Eren did as much if it not more.

  “You know what I want,” Eren said between breaths. “All of you this time.” He was calmer, no longer bending and writhing like a trapped animal trying to devour Levi. Though it didn’t mean he wasn’t eager. While his hands traced demanding paths down Levi’s spine, he spread his legs wider and curled his hips up to meet Levi’s, whispering, “Please. Please, please, Levi. Oh...I need-”

  Levi nipped Eren’s lip. “Relax.”

  Eren shook his head, too keyed up to do more than babble against Levi’s lips through sloppy kisses. “Mmm! Le-”

  “Hmm?” Levi hummed into Eren’s mouth when Eren tugged on his hair again.

  “Levi, Levi, Levi, Levi, Levi,” Eren said, managing to pull away long enough to look. “C’mon, put it in me,” he softly pleaded. It was followed by a string of mumbled challenges, curses, and whining, then Eren reaching out with greedy hands for Levi as he sat up and knelt between his thighs.

  Shaking his head, Levi’s lips curved a touch as he said, “Impatient brat,” then reached for the nightstand drawer.

  He was careful. Slowly easing Eren open until every other word between kisses was “fuck” or “Levi,” and Eren was begging and tearing at the quilt and Levi’s forearm. Eren’s neck curved as he pressed their foreheads together when Levi settled back over him. Slick and ardent and intent. Then they were joined how they hadn’t yet been in this life, and Eren was wrapped around Levi like he’d never let go again.

  Beneath him, Levi could feel Eren’s strength and stout heart. His fight. His spirit. His fingers were scrambling; squeezing Levi’s intertwined with his own, his stomach pressing up as his back bowed while strong legs sought to tug Levi deeper. Closer.

  They were as near as they could be, but Levi knew the “not close enough’s” were already sitting on Eren’s tongue. That Eren was tumbling them over in his mouth before he would repeat them against his neck desperate to melt them together.

  Eren’s green eyes glowed above crimson stained cheeks. He smiled through whimpers and moans, holding Levi’s gaze with his own. Then his lips were pressed to Levi’s collarbone, and Eren felt breakable beneath him, chanting, “closer, closer, closer, not close enough” before he snapped and took Levi with him.

  When they could breathe again, Levi rolled them on their sides, and Eren skimmed fingers down Levi’s jaw, watching him silently. For once, the brat was lost for words.

  Levi closed his eyes.

  He recalled the last time Eren had looked at him like that. In the house by the sea. When his hips were so bad, Eren had to climb on top. Levi could see the same delving expression when he remembered Eren looking down at him then. The lines around his eyes were deep from a lifetime spent smiling. His silver hair shone like moonlight in the faint glow of the lamp. His skin was still tanned, though worn with age, and yet, somehow softer when their fingers laced together.

  Feeling Eren’s fingertips brushing over his cheekbones, Levi opened his eyes, finding the same man, only younger.

  Eren stared for a moment, his lips curving before he released a breathy laugh. “I missed you.”

  Levi’s cheeks resisted the press from the corners of his mouth as he smiled. It wasn't the gentle twitch of his lips that came in easy moments. It was his awkward grin. When his bottom lip pushed down, and the top pulled up. When his teeth were exposed, and his eyes opened too wide in their bid not to crinkle too much.

  It hurt his face, laid him bare more than his current nudity, but he couldn’t will it away. He didn’t want to. Not with how Eren was looking at him, struck and surprised. Devoted. Eren didn’t need to say “I remember that too.” It was in his eyes as he traced his thumb over Levi’s chin, beaming and so warm and kind Levi wasn’t sure how he didn’t shine.

 

*****

 

  Feeling the bed dip too much in the middle, Levi grappled for Eren’s hand in the dark. He never moved so slowly when he only got up to take a piss.

  “Eren...”

  Tapping the tip of his forefinger against Levi’s, Eren said, voice hoarse, “I can’t lie in the dark anymore.”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “Don’t know,” Eren said and paused, “the moon moved from one edge of the window to the other.”

  Eren was trembling. His palm was hot and clammy, though his fingers were too cold. Levi could see his shoulders slump each time he blew out an uneven breath.

  Sitting up, Levi gathered Eren’s blanket from where it was strewn across the bed. He wrapped it around his naked shoulders, pressed his forehead to his neck, and curled his arms around him.

  “Tea?” Why was it always tea? “No, cocoa instead.”

  “Yeah.” Eren nodded.

  Levi moved to get off the bed, but Eren took his hand back. “Mm?”

  “Can we have it here?” Eren asked. He fiddled with his blanket. “Just this once?”

  Levi never ate anywhere but the kitchen table. Though the routine had been broken since Eren returned. Biscuits and snacks in the living room. Sometimes on the rug, other times the couch. Then Eren bringing a cup of tea to the bath three nights before. He had sat across from Levi in the tub, poking him in the shin with his toe each time he took a sip, smirking at him with eyes that said, “Look at all your rules you let me break.”

  “Just this once.” Levi slipped off the bed and tossed Eren his nightshirt then pulled on his robe.

  “I’ll help,” Eren offered and stood. He probably didn’t want to be alone.

  Eren was quiet as they moved to the kitchen and Levi got the fire going in the stove. He was standing by the table fidgeting with his hands, knotting them in his blanket like he would fly away if he didn't hold it tight enough. When the stove was hot, Eren chopped the chocolate, while Levi heated the cream. Whatever was on his mind, Eren didn’t want to talk about it yet. He looked contemplative while they worked, silent in the glow of the full moon streaming through the window.

  He was holding worries close to himself. Probably somewhere in his—too big for his chest—heart. Levi could feel it swelling himself as Eren took two mugs down from the shelf with trembling hands and set them on the counter, giving Levi a softly lying smile which said, “I’m fine.”

  Digging it out of him seldom worked when Eren was this age. Levi could poke at him when he was a teen, but Eren always improved at deflecting as he grew. Sometimes he used anger, though other times he answered a question with another or changed the subject. When it was at its worse, he seduced a knowing Levi into bed.

  Eren wasn't making the face he pulled when he was hiding or attempting to pretend something didn’t happen as he watched Levi pour the velvety cocoa. He looked to be thinking, digesting.

  Levi still didn’t ask what it was. He set the mugs on the tray, and cast the dirty pot to the sink, filling it with water. It could wait until morning.

  When they were back on the bed, Levi expected more silence, but after the first taste of chocolate, Eren was staring into his cup, moving his lips like he was trying to turn big, bulky words into smooth ones that didn't fit in his mouth.

  Levi curled his hands around his cup, tethering himself to its warmth as he waited.

  “I-I dreamed of the tree.” Green eyes were full of unshed tears when Eren turned his head several moments later, but he released a short groan and stowed them all away somewhere deep.

  Levi had no illusions it wouldn’t come up again. It was surprising it took so long. Nineteen days had passed since Eren last mentioned the tree. Levi wondered if he had been thinking about it. If trying to force away the need to see it had caused a dream to surface.

  “I saw you die there,” Eren told Levi.

  “But you were already…”

  “Dead. Yeah, but I came to get you.” Eren took a breath so great Levi felt it in his bones. “Most of the time it doesn't happen like that. Most times you die first then come to get me.”

  “After you were gone. When I was dying?” Levi said. “You’re certain that’s what you saw?”

  “Yeah.” Eren pinched his eyes. “When I died as a titan…after that, you were leaning against the roots of the tree, and then you really weren’t anymore. You were closer to me.”

  Comprehension came to Levi like a slow trickle from a leaky faucet, then a gush. Cold water sputtering on porcelain. Its splash echoing in an empty room. “But you remember the same at the end of your other lives...”

  Eren nodded.

  “And you remember dying?” Levi asked, his fingers aching from the force of squeezing his cup.

  “That mostly.”

  “And after you’re dead?” Levi’s heart was racing. “Then what?”

  “I remember that too, but only until you find me. Then nothing.”

  Levi had one memory of Eren coming to ‘retrieve’ him. At the close of The Catalyst while he lay in a pool of his own blood, broken and battered. At the worst of times, he had questioned whether it had happened or not. Perhaps it had only been a pleasingly sentimental figment of a dying man’s imagination. He had no memory of ever taking Eren from his body. And he had no recollection of the in-between. Still, Levi had never shared this memory or fantasy—whatever it was—with Eren.

  He didn't doubt Eren. He was resolute. There wasn’t confusion in Eren’s eyes. Only hardened surety and solemnity.

  Levi scratched his head, tugging at the roots of his hair for clarity. Eren remembered things he did not. Eren remembered being dead, before he was reborn. Meanwhile, to Levi, except for the time at the tree, dying always felt like slamming into a wall of blackness, and then, next he knew, he was in a new life. There was pressure as Levi tried to claw his way into his own past. Unyielding and robust as he butted up against a barrier of his own creation. A door he had constructed yet lost the key to. “Can you see what happens afterward? When we’re both _dead_?”

  Eren sighed. “No,” he paused, drinking his cocoa with an uncharacteristically small sip. “Only when we come to take each other...I see your face and hands.” He rubbed his brow. “Your arms around me, then just happiness like you’re inside my chest. Every good thing with you, but all at once and more. I can't explain it.” He pulled his lips between his teeth, quiet, collecting more thoughts, then met Levi’s eyes. “It feels kinda like I did earlier when we...but not that either.”

  “Hmm...” Levi knew the feeling from the one time it occurred, but he couldn't put it into words himself.

  “There’s always something tugging at my ankle. I can feel that.” Eren looked across the room while he frowned. “I think it makes us come back.”

  “But we don't go back right away.”

  “No,” Eren said. “I don’t understand why I wait. You’re always so much older than me.”

  “Maybe you have to wait.”

  “I can’t see any other reason.”

  “You saw this all in one dream?”

  “No,” Eren said. “I saw you dying in a dream. I took you with me, and when I woke up, I saw you doing the same for me, but again and again.”

  “So it wasn’t a dream,” Levi said. “They’re memories.”

  “Both, but these were memories.” Eren placed his mug on the tray. He stared at the wall for a long time, then ran his fingers through his hair and pulled until stands were coming out in his hands. He grit his teeth as he looked at his palms. He growled. “Me getting you too, but not too often. I see all of it.” He threw his hands down on the quilt and gripped it. “It makes my head pound.”

  Levi sat frozen. _‘Not this again,’_ caressed his mind as Eren reached for his hair once more.

  Unthinking, Levi’s hands wrapped around Eren’s wrists.

  He would hug Eren and tie him up with his own arms and legs before he’d watch him hurt himself like he used to. “Stop!”

  Eren didn’t fight. He dissolved. Falling slack into Levi’s arms. “I’m frustrated, dammit!”

  Levi held him close, touching his lips to his temple. “Yes.”

  “Sorry,” Eren said, deflating. He looked up at Levi but all the stubbornness and hurt Levi expected to see had fled. Eren was lost. “I just wanna know why.”

  “So do I,” Levi whispered. “What do you want to do?”

  Eren shifted in his arms, arranging himself, so his ear was against the center of Levi’s chest. He rested his hand next to his face when Levi released him, then wet his lips. “I want to go to the tree.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated.


	17. Chapter 17

  Eren emerged from the bedroom and sat at the kitchen table, groaning. “Are you sure this is all right?”

  Levi kept his focus on the last bit of porridge he was doling out. Tension and tightness filled the flat. Not directed at each other. More, it was the feeling of something fat and thick stretching then waiting for it to snap. “I would have said so if it wasn’t,” he said, taking his place across from Eren. He brushed their legs together to get Eren’s attention and slid his bowl toward him. “Eat, we have a long day ahead of us.”

  Eren hunkered over his breakfast with his elbows on the table, poking his spoon into the thick cereal, mashing a pat of butter into the hot oats. He had been so quiet since they woke. Solemnly scurrying around as if he would break something or say the wrong thing. Like he was walking on glass, he’d strewn over the floor himself.

  “It wasn't for glory,” Eren said in an indignant hiss. His fingers were tight around his spoon, teeth clenched, seething. He was looking in Levi’s direction, but past him.

  Levi cleared his throat. “What wasn't?”

  Eren’s spoon clattered back into his bowl, splattering porridge on the table. He blinked, then shook his head and frowned. “Did I do it again?” He rubbed his temples. “My head feels funny every time it happens.”

  “Again?” It was out of Levi’s mouth sharply before he could stop it. Eren had become lost in his own head once more, talking to memories or reliving them, though it was seldom. Levi gulped down the anxious gobbet coalescing in his chest along with a spoonful of breakfast, then rephrased, softer, “You blacked out again?”

  “It’s not a lot. It doesn’t happen too often.” Eren picked his spoon back up. “I’m okay,” he said, taking a bite of cereal as if to demonstrate.

  “How often?” Levi asked, mirroring Eren with a bite of his own, tapping his toe against the floor in time with the tick of the wall clock.

  Wiping up the mess he had made on the table, Eren replied, “A few times at work this week.”

  “You could have burned yourself.”

  Eren’s only response was a dismissive grunt around a mouthful and a flick of reassuring eyes. Though Levi was concerned, compelled to know when each and every incident had happened, for how long and where he was, in the past, talking about the blackouts had only served to distress and agitate Eren.

  “Sorry,” Eren said and drew his napkin across his mouth.

  “You can't control it.”

  “Not for that, for making us do this today.” Levi could hear Eren shuffling his feet below the table. “We were supposed to relax.”

  Levi clicked his tongue, admonishing. “We knew it was going to happen.”

  Sighing into his bowl, Eren swirled what was left of his porridge in careful circles, then stuffed a brimming spoonful in his mouth. He swallowed it down in one gulp, grimacing, then cleared his throat. “I was trying to be patient like I promised.”

  Levi shrugged. “Maybe it’s better we aren’t.” He rose, fetching another lamp then set it to the side of the table and returned to his seat. The flat was too dark. Like the sun had only peeked out an hour earlier to murmur comfortably lulling lies before it retreated and left them in murk. Fitting for what they’d be doing that day. Fitting for dredging up painful recollections.

  Levi scratched the back of his hand. There would be no way to hide his sentimentality or his previous loneliness. His eyes were ever too open in Eren’s presence.

  “What if Dahlia won’t let us borrow her car?” Eren asked.

  “We’ll rent horses and a cart from Hugo’s stable.”

  “They’re slow. We won’t be home in time to open.”

  “Then the shop will be closed for a day.” Levi stirred his breakfast, foregoing savoring his oatmeal for filling his stomach quickly.

  Eren offered a “Humph.” He wasn’t eating anymore, only pushing his food around, letting out little sighs and biting his lip.

  “What's the matter?” Levi asked with a kick to Eren’s shin.

  “What if this is a bad idea?”

  Letting his spoon drop, Levi leaned back in his chair. “It might be, but it’s never stopped us before.”

  “But what if we figure it out?”

  Levi tapped Eren’s toe with his own until he looked at him. “I thought that was what you wanted.”

  “I do!” Eren looked down, pausing as he pulled in a dramatic breath. “But do you too?”

  If they could always have easy lives like the last, Levi would give up the chance to know any of it. If Eren could smile and flourish and be content, Levi would suffer the memories, the torment of knowing and remaining alone before he found Eren again. Despite his willingness to endure and sacrifice for the sake of Eren, quiet comfort didn’t seem to be what the fates had in store for them this time. Levi wet his lips, sliding his hand closer to Eren’s on the tabletop. “We need to find peace.”

  “I could stop telling you about the dreams.” Eren’s head slumped, and Levi’s snapped up.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “But I’m a pain in your ass. I’m a burd...a burden, and-”

  “No,” Levi interrupted. “You’re not. We’re going to get that trunk and fix this shit.”

  Pulling Levi’s handkerchief from his pants pocket, Eren stared at it and rubbed it between his fingers. Since the night Levi revealed the studio, Eren sought consolation from either the bit of cloth or the blanket Levi had laid over him when he was unconscious.  

  Levi could feel his frown smoothing as the pained grimace on Eren’s face dissipated.

  Eren’s eyes met Levi’s. They burned. Fierce and determined as the line of his jaw hardened along with his steadfast expression. “We’ll do it.”

  “Then finish your breakfast and let’s get moving.”

   Regardless of their task ahead, it didn’t prevent them from washing the pot and bowls. It settled Levi’s twitchy hands, and the porridge would be crusty and dried and stuck to plates in dreadful little clumps when they returned if not attended to. The state they both would be in was a point to consider as well. At the very least, driving and digging and driving some more would be exhausting.

  While Eren returned the clean china and saucepan to their shelves, Levi wrapped the remains of Eren’s pumpernickel loaf and some hard cheese, then filled canteens with water. The road to the countryside was sparse and forgotten. Two divots cut by wagon wheels and motorized carriages through a smattering of gravel. There was a disheveled inn near the halfway mark, Levi recalled, but their tea was appalling and what was on offer for rooms and a meal were deplorable as well.

  “We’ll come back for these,” Levi said, setting their provisions on the small table near the door.

  Eren bent down to tie his boots. “Did you remember napkins?”

  Patting his satchel, Levi nodded. He put on his coat and newsboy, then slipped his gloves into his pocket before he put on his shoes, and they left.

  They took the back door out to the alley, stepping under a morning sky of wicked grey stained red. It reflected in the eyes of the rat that was glaring and chittering at them as Levi locked the door.

  “It’s huge!” Eren said, toeing the metal bin it was perched on. “Scram!”

  The rat let loose a viscous squeak and held its ground.

  “Filthy,” Levi said.

  “Why’s it out at this time of day?”

  Levi put his gloves on, raising a brow. “Perhaps it’s diseased.”

  As if in agreement, the rat beat its naked tail against the side of the can and rubbed its clawed paws together, menacing. Eren stuck his hand in his coat pocket. The one Levi saw him slip his jackknife into before they left. His nose crinkled in disgust as he stared the creature down with teeth clenched tight.

  “Eager, aren’t you,” Levi said, eyeing the handle of Eren’s blade in his hand.

  “It hissed at us.”

  “It’s a rat.”

  “It lunged at me too!”

  “Maybe it smells the candy you have stuffed in your coat.”

  Eren scoffed. “It’s probably trying to get to the cellar.” He craned his neck, peering down the dirty alleyway. “I bet it has friends.”

  “Rats don't have friends.” Levi rolled his eyes and gave the bin a solid kick.

  The rat squeaked, jumping into a puddle. It snapped its jaws at them threateningly. Sharp teeth gnashing as if in challenge. They were a sickening yellow like Eckhard’s. Levi’s brows pinched as he glared at the vermin, envisioning a tiny black hat on the creature’s head, shadowing its fiendish eyes and revoltingly long face. He stomped his boot near it, splashing it with grimy water as he shook away the ridiculous image. It squeaked again then scurried away, squeezing through an uneven, black crack in brick next door.

  Levi turned on his heel and moved out to the walk with Eren following closely behind. The air was soupy as they crossed the street. Like it was during the height of summer when the humidity combined with car fumes and steaming horse shit in the roads. Still, it wasn't warm enough to melt the snow entirely away, and the sun was hidden behind the ominous, black clouds which only seemed to darken the longer they remained beneath them.

  A storm was coming.

  There was a crack of lightning in the distance; beyond the town proper. Levi inhaled deep, filling his chest. There was something foul in the air. Barring the electric storm charging the aether, an odious hum buzzed in the atmosphere. It crawled over his skin and morphed the color of everything to muted, dreary, and purplish. Not a pretty purple like the color of Eren’s lips when he ate blackberry humbugs nor the shade of the bruises Levi left on Eren’s skin with his mouth. It was dreadful and dirty and smeared.

  “Thundersnow?” Eren asked and pulled open the door to the bakery, holding it for Levi.

  “It’s to the west,” Levi said. “We’re heading north toward Hermina. Not far from old HQ. Don’t start worrying.”

  When they stepped inside, the shop was busy. A chattering hum filled the space, punctuated by the occasional loud voice carrying over the others. Two men at the front were arguing over who could buy the last slice of pecan pie. The counter was crowded, but Eren led the way forward, pushing between patrons with a soft “excuse us” every few feet.

  He strode the last three steps and leaned on the display case, calling to one of Dahlia’s nieces, Margerie.

  “Couldn’t stay away from the cakes?” she said to Eren, hustling over. “It’s your day off.” She dusted her hands on her apron and swiped a lock of dark hair off her forehead, then glanced at Levi. “Hello, Levi.”

  “Good morning, Margerie.”

  “We need to talk to Dahlia,” said Eren. “Is she still here?”

  “She’s in the kitchen. Go on back.”

  “Thanks.”

  Levi followed Eren around the counter, past desserts and bread loaves piled high in baskets, and on through the swinging doors to the back. Levi sighed at the relative quiet of the kitchen. The shouting was escalating, then the clattering and shattering of dishes reached Levi’s ears, softening when the doors rested shut behind them.  

  “It’s a nuthouse today,” Eren said, halting next to the ovens where Dahlia was pulling out strudel.

  She turned, running fingers over her grey hair and primping her bun, then frowned. “What in Maria’s name are you doing here, Eren? You’re supposed to be relaxing.” She set her hands on her hips. “Was there something wrong with your pumpernickel?”

  “Oh, no,” Eren said.

  “It’s delicious,” Levi added.

  Eren peered down at his hands for a moment, twiddling them together before his waist. Then he looked at Dahlia. “I was hoping we could ask for a favor.”

  Dahlia unwrapped the apron from around her hips, revealing a flour dusted red dress. “Why don’t we move farther back where it’s hush.”

  They followed Dahlia, then settled in a cramped back room with two flights of stairs. One leading up, the other down, not unlike Levi’s staff room in the bookshop. Levi leaned against the door frame, propping a foot against it.

  “What is it you boys need?”

  “We were wondering…” Eren said, taking a breath and scratching the back of his neck. "Can we borrow your car for the day?"

  "We'll compensate you," Levi said, adding, "and refuel it as well."

  She tilted her head to the side and smiled. "I'm not opposed, but if I may be so nosey...where are you two headed off to at the last minute?"

  "The countryside," Levi said.

  "Romantic getaway?" Dahlia asked, eyes gleaming beneath narrowed lids.

  Eren brushed his hand against Levi's. "Something like that.”

  “Do either of you know how to drive?” She crossed her arms and tapped her fingertips on her elbow while she examined them.  

  Levi felt like a child asking for permission to stay out a bit after dark. He braced himself for a possible list of rules to come.

  “I do,” Eren piped up, raising his hand near his shoulder as Levi shook his head. Then he turned to look at Levi with an amused grin. “You can’t drive?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Really?”

  “I never had a reason to learn.” Levi wrinkled his nose. “Besides, I can’t stand the smell.”

  “Neither can I,” Dahlia said, pursing her lips. “One reason I barely use it. I acquired it for deliveries mainly, but couldn’t find a competent driver.”

  “They’re a menace,” Levi said, remembering the motorists arguing in the center of the intersection the day before.

  “I’m good at driving, I promise,” Eren said. “My dad taught me when I was thirteen.”

  Smiling, Dahlia stretched up and patted Eren’s cheek. Her eyes looked sad for a moment, but she quickly averted them to the floor and shook it away. “I trust you’re capable, Eren.”

  “So is that a yes?”

  “Of course.” There was a hint of a smirk as she glanced between them, then retrieved a key from a hook next to the staircase, and opened the door. “There she is,” she said pointing at a dull, black motorized carriage parked in the alley. She turned to Levi and handed him the key as they went outside. “Best be careful with the crank. I wouldn’t want either of you breaking an arm, and it’s tight.”

  “We’ll be all right,” Eren said, circling the car. He kicked the closest front tire with a puffed up chest and looked back at Levi. “I’ll teach you. The crank is up here.”

  “I know,” Levi said, adding a quieter, “cocky brat.”

  Dahlia sniffed, giving Levi a sympathetic smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You can park it here when you return.” She turned and opened the door, shivering when a gust of wind blew down the alley. “Put the key in the slot if it’s late.”

  “Thanks again,” Eren said.

  She looked down, picking lint from her sleeve then looked up with a warm smile. “You boys have a nice day together.” And then she was gone, back to work in the heat of the bakery’s kitchen.

  “We need the shovels,” Levi said.

  “Let’s just go get them.”

  “No,” Levi said. He glanced at each end of the alleyway, searching for villainous black hats, then up at the grey sky overhead. “We don’t know who could be watching. We’ll bring the car to the back.”

  “Fine. Then come help me,” Eren said, pulling open the driver’s side door. “It’s easier if two people do it together. You turn the crank, I’ll adjust the timing.”

  Levi rolled his eyes and tossed Eren the key. His over-eager directions were endearing, though he had a long forgotten bumptious bossy streak that Levi couldn’t begin to dislike. Levi crouched by the front tire, hiding his smirk, and grasped the crank with his left hand then began to turn it. The alley smelled like piss from there, and he blew the scent hard out his nose while Eren puttered around with the timing. Levi turned the crank another quarter-turn, then shifted and adjusted the choke, suppressing a laugh. Eren had forgotten the instruction to do that.

  “Ready,” Levi called.

  “But the choke?”

  “Already done.”

  He heard a muffled curse as Eren turned the key and then the clank of mechanical doohickies grinding and beating against each other as Eren made adjustments.

  “Okay,” Eren yelled. “Ready, try again.”

  Levi heard the back door to the bakery open and shut, then feet crunching the snow.

  “No, you aren’t,” Dahlia called over the racket of Eren attempting to start the car. She was back, holding something in her hand.

  Levi abandoned his post. “What it is it?” he asked, stretching his voice.

  Dahlia looked at Levi and scowled warmly, pressing a finger to one ear while she balanced a small ramekin in her right hand. “Bread pudding,” she yelled, thrusting the container toward Levi. She shoved her hand in her apron pocket and retrieved two spoons as well.

  Levi took everything, giving her the most admonishing expression he could, feeling the heat of the filling dessert on his palm. “You don’t-”

  “Shut up and take it!” Dahlia smiled, patting him on the cheek a bit too hard. “Take care of each other,” she said, then went to the door, clutching the handle before she turned to him and winked. “You both deserve something sweet.”

  Levi gave her a short nod of thanks and turned back to the car. He placed their treat on the seat, then returned to the front of the vehicle, and planted his feet on the broken cobblestone, avoiding kneeling in the muck.

  He could see Eren craning his neck and peering at him through the windscreen.

  “Fuck it,” Levi said. “Let’s get this started.”

  Eren only grinned. Of course, he did.

  Levi turned the crank once more, ripping his hand away quickly when the engine backfired. Eren yelled to stop and made more adjustments, then called Levi’s name again.

  When Levi gave the crank another try, the metal beast came to life. He stood, wiping dust from his hands, tugged opened the passenger door, and slid in.

  Eren turned his head, giving Levi a cocksure smile as he shifted into reverse and threw his arm over the seat behind Levi’s back. “That was impressive.” He pressed the accelerator. “Good boy.”

  Levi tweaked Eren’s ear, striving to keep his lips from pulling up too much at the corners as he watched him attempt to look smooth behind the wheel. “You know, I know how to start one of these monstrosities.”

   Eren looked at Levi, still smiling as he wrenched the wheel, backed the car out onto the street, then squeezed the handbrake. “Now you just have to learn to drive it.”

  Levi was tempted to throw Eren’s words from the evening before back and ask if he’d get a ‘reward’ if he did. They’d end up in the bed again if he said it. Playful banter leaving them secure, warm, and glowing.

  As tempting as it was to press his skin to Eren’s under blankets and hold each other in the safety of their bedroom, and as much as Dahlia’s poking and Eren’s bratty bravado had lightened the mood, there was a mission to undertake.

 

*****

  

  They didn't linger long at the flat. Eren stayed at the car and left it running while Levi packed two shovels, their food, and snuck Eren’s blanket into the back of the car. It was cold, and the motorized carriage provided little insulation against the chill. There was always the possibility he would crave it for comfort depending on how he was affected by retrieving the trunk as well.

  After that, they were off. Eren maneuvering them carefully through the streets of Trost, avoiding any mishaps with Sunday morning traffic as best he could until he turned onto the road out of town and they picked up speed.

  The way was bumpy, the cacophony of the engine distracting, and the car had the tendency to backfire every so often. It contrasted with the ever darkening sky in a way Levi could only describe as over-stimulating and loud. They could barely speak without yelling.

  “So…” Eren called over the rumpus an hour into what had been a mainly wordless trip. He downshifted as they ascended a hill. “When was the last time you were there?”

  “The tree?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When I was seventeen.” Levi looked out the window, scanning the horizon. The storm was still behind them, though didn't seem to be losing intensity. “Made three trips there during that summer. Only took what I could fit on horseback.”

  “You’ve never gone back?”

  “Not yet this time.”

  “Didn't you ever just want to look?”

  Levi shook his head, peeling his gaze from the landscape, back to Eren. The question rent him in two halves. Memories of the nights he wanted to return, dig up the chest, and touch items which were once Eren’s. To bury his face in Eren’s nightshirt, he insisted Levi add last time. To page through Eren’s diaries and smell the paper, the ink, and trace his fingertips over the indentations of words he had scribed.

  There was another piece of Levi too. The one he knew would break, crumble, and brood. The one which would put a chink in his shield like a stout, seeking arrow, letting loose his hidden anger and rage and sorrow. Let it seep from the wound with a flow too steady for him to ever stem.

  “Levi,” Eren said to him when he was quiet for too long.

  “It never told me anything,” Levi muttered.

  “What?” Eren called.

  “You could be disappointed,” Levi admitted over the din.

  “Why would I be?”

  “You want answers,” Levi said. “Don't put faith in what’s in there to provide them.”

  “There might be something you missed.”

  “It’s all the past.”

  “But it’s _our_ past.”

  “We might never know why.”

  Eren took a hand off the wheel and grasped Levi’s next to him on the seat. “I don’t believe that!” he said. “You said yourself my sense of us brought me to you, why couldn’t it be sending us here too?”

  Levi sighed. Eren wasn’t wrong. He knew Eren was pulled to him, but all it proved was their bond was real. There was no evidence they were ever going to know the how or why, nor that they would be able to stop the cycle or the memories. “It might not be as easy as you want.”

  “Stop being a grouch.” His voice was rough, but when Eren turned his eyes from the road to meet Levi’s, they were twinkling.

  Levi brushed his thumb over Eren’s palm. “Get your hand back on the wheel.”

  “And you’re always calling me a brat.” Eren scoffed, a dimple pressing into his left cheek.

  “You are a brat.” Levi leaned forward to the basket of food he’d stashed on the floor. They were both edgy. The mechanical grind of the engine didn’t help. It blared in Levi’s head, causing it to pound from the inside and the outside. They were trapped, rolling along, thrown by bumps and the constant need for Eren to tug the wheel in one direction or another to avoid holes too deep to drive the tires through.

  Another jump of the car threw Levi’s shoulder hard against the glove box while he rummaged through their provisions. It flung open and dumped its contents as he attempted to retrieve Eren’s bread for a snack.

  “Sorry,” Eren said, “that one came up fast.”

  “Damn it!” Papers were scattered about, something had hit the floor with a clunk. A crisp white glove was under the toe of Levi’s boot. “How did she fit all this shit in here?”

  “How do women fit all the shit they do in a handbag?” Eren said, glancing at the mess, snickering. “It’s the same thing.”

  “I got her gloves muddy.” Levi snatched them up first and put them away. Then he gathered up the papers, straightening the sheets as best he could on his lap while being jostled to and fro. They were mostly receipts and orders for the bakery. He set them in the glovebox along with a compact, then peered at the floor, sure something heavy had fallen and hit his foot. He had heard it too. He moved their sack of lunch aside, noticing the glint of something metal poking out from under the seat.

  Levi reached down, his fingers curling around cool steal. He knew exactly what the object was as soon as his hand was clasped around it. “She has a fucking gun in here.”

  “What!” Eren’s head whipped in Levi’s direction.

  Levi held it up, careful to keep his finger away from the trigger. “Just what I said. It’s a little gun.” He thumbed the cylinder open, checking to see if it was loaded. Five bullets were in its chambers. He left them as they were and snapped it shut. “An expensive one too, going by the engravings.”

  “Why would she have it in the car?” Eren said, avoiding another pothole.

  “Why does she have it at all?” Though common for the townsfolk to have arms for hunting or protection, it was difficult to picture a demure, grey-haired Dahlia in her frilly apron brandishing a revolver in one hand and a basket of scones in the other.

  “Pie thieves,” Eren offered.

  Levi snorted. “It would make more sense to have it in the bakery then.”

  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to put it back or not. He ran his thumb over its grip; inlaid with mother of pearl, then hefted it in his hand. It had a good weight and balance for a petite old lady. So much different than the shotgun he’d been forced to wield against Kenny when he was backed behind that smelly bartop during The Catalyst. When Eren was once again beyond his reach.

  “I’ve never seen any guns there,” Eren said, interrupting Levi’s thoughts, “but she keeps a knife behind the register. And one under the counter.”

  “Any smart proprietor should. Dahlia’s no idiot.”

  Eren eyed the gun. “It fits good in your hand.”

  “Tch.” Levi scowled, not because Eren suggested his hands were well sized for a lady’s gun. He had no qualms accepting his stature. Other than the occasional irritation of pulling out a stool to reach a shelf, it had never hindered him in any of his incarnations. He never much liked guns though. They were most often a coward’s weapon of choice. He had the one under the counter in the bookshop, but it was mainly for show. A knife was more precise, more personal, and surgical. If Levi was going to kill or maim, he preferred doing so up close while dirtying his own hands. And even with good aim, a bullet didn’t always hit its mark. The target could move, and what was only intended to be an injury could result in death...or the opposite.

  Eren swerved, and Levi banged his shoulder into his upper arm. The gun almost flew from his grip, his finger nearly catching on the trigger. It could have gone off.

  “Sorry,” Eren said for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “This road really is shit.”

  That was it. “You’re doing good considering,” Levi said, unloading Dahlia’s little revolver. He pulled out a hanky and wrapped the bullets in it, then put the bundle and the gun back in the glovebox. At least they could try to eat a snack without having to worry about accidentally being shot each time they hit a hole or bump in the road.

  It was nearing lunchtime, and despite the occasional twist in Levi’s stomach, it was growling. He fished out a slice of Eren’s bread from his bag and handed it to him. “You must be hungry.”

  Eren’s eyes lit up, though he didn’t take them off the treacherous road for long. “I was starving.”

  Levi smirked. “You always are.”

 

*****

  

  After another hour of travel over the worst of the trail, Levi directed Eren to pull off the road toward the woods.

  The darkness hadn’t abated as Eren slowed and they drove over bumpy snow-covered hills. Levi watched the forest grow closer through the windshield.

  Just as Levi hadn’t pointed out the road leading to the rubble of HQ when they passed it, he didn’t point out the place where Eren had died during The Catalyst.

  No trees ever grew there. As if the spot was too sacred, or perhaps it had absorbed too much darkness. He shook his head, attempting to fling away the memory of Eren’s final moments. How Eren looked into him with glistening eyes, whispering, _“I’ll find you.”_ Eren was next to him. He wasn’t dying, fused to his broken titan, saying goodbye. He was real and alive and warm, letting go of a quiet “Ooooh” as he took in the untouched winter drenched grove.

  Eren’s eyes were wide as he gaped, craning his neck. The tall pines swayed in the breeze, towering above the virginal forest floor. Their branches were blanketed in a thick layer of snow that clung like fat, sticky blobs of dough. Even with the noise of the car, Levi knew it was silent outside, save for the intermittent chirp of birds or the scratching of a squirrel scrambling up tree bark.  

  “Almost there,” Levi said, pointing to the left. He could already see the tree. Massive and ancient. It was as imposing as it had been the day he perished under its boughs.

  “It’s beautiful,” Eren said. His head swiveled, and his lips parted in quiet awe as the car crawled forward.

  “This is close enough.” There was a hesitant lurch in Levi’s chest at the promise of defiling the pristine snow with muddy tire tracks. Like smearing bootprints over a freshly polished floor, only worse; dishonoring something sacrosanct. Nature could be ugly, violent, and horrid, but sometimes it could be kind, gentle, and giving. Benevolent enough as it were then to leave the copse of trees they were parked within beautiful and unspoiled.

  Eren turned off the car, and Levi welcomed the peace. His head felt like the engine was clattering around inside it, though it was ebbing away while his spine twisted tighter like one of those leather bands Eren liked to tie in his hair. Eren dragged in a deep, shaky breath and braced his hands on the wheel regardless the car was no longer running.

  There was no turning back now. The short daytime hours demanded they free the chest before sundown. The sky would be black as coal save for the moonlight once the sun fell into slumber.

  “Ready?” Levi asked. He wouldn’t push Eren out of the car, out of his musings, though a gentle nudge was in order.

  Eren sounded startled when he gave a sharp, little, “Huh?” As if Levi had pulled him from a dream.

  There was an uncomfortable swoop in Levi’s stomach. He wondered if Eren had gone far away again like he had at breakfast. He hadn’t said anything concerning nor stupifying, but knowing Eren, the gravity of the location’s past perhaps weighed on him. Still, it wasn’t enough to settle the kicking in Levi’s chest or wet his too dry mouth. “We need to get to work,” he said with the urgency he once exhibited as The Captain readying his squad for an expedition.

  “Yeah.” Eren shook his head. “Yeah, yeah.” He pried his fingers from the wheel and looked at Levi with a softly sad expression. His eyes were heavy and gravely meditative. Glazing in a manner which left Levi wondering if more had unlocked behind them. Despite Eren’s awed solemnity, he smiled through it. “It’s just so pretty.”

  The left side of Levi’s lip rose with a light smile. “You haven't seen untouched snow yet.”

  Eren shook his head. “No...feels like a shame to walk on it.”

  Opening his door, and peeking his head out, Levi looked at the sky. “Judging by those clouds, I gather our tracks will be erased come morning.” Fitting really; to have the evidence of their visit covered. For it to be excised after recovering mementos which should have been forgotten like shoe prints blanketed by fresh snowfall.

  Eren only opened his own door when Levi put his foot on the ground. “I bet it’s beautiful in summer,” he said, stepping out.

  Levi didn’t tell Eren which tree it was, but he watched as he took several slow steps forward toward it and gave him a moment before he gathered the shovels. He caught up with him a few minutes later and came to stand at Eren’s side.

  “This is it,” Eren said, his eyes focusing down to pinpoints as he looked the tree up and down. “It’s like my dream…” he trailed off, “exactly the same.” He circled it twice with a heavy reverence Levi wasn’t sure he shared.

  Levi could imagine what it was like for Eren, and yet it didn’t hold the same weight for him. Of course, Eren had been there with him before, though he had no memories of it. Levi held his eyes shut for a beat and took a breath, then kicked a rock near the roots. “Right here,” he said, handing Eren a shovel.

  Eren took it, clearing away the snow and poking the point into the dirt. “The ground seems a bit frozen,” he said. “I don’t think it’s going to be easy.”

  “No shit.” Levi kicked the spade into the earth, going right to work, focusing mostly on the ground when Eren leaned his shovel against the tree and went back to the car.

  Levi had only managed to move two shovelfuls when he felt Eren behind him, his hand stilling his own on the handle. Then Eren was turning him around, his expression too knowing. “Here,” Eren said, breaking a slice of pumpernickel in half and placing the bigger piece in Levi’s hand. “It’ll give us energy.”

  Frowning down at his palm, Levi’s throat constricted along with muscles that were so twisted they felt near ripping. “We forgot to stop and eat.”

  “You gave me bread in the car.”

  “There’s pudding.”

  “Get the chest out first,” Eren said, forcing Levi into a hug. “We’ll have somewhere to sit.”

  “Hmm.” Levi nodded against Eren’s scarf. Clinging tighter than he would have liked out in the wilds with an onerous task pressing at their backs. He let Eren slot them together and envelope him in the quiet and calm where all he could hear was Eren’s breath.

  “You’re cold,” Eren said.

  Not in Eren’s arms, never in them. “Let’s get it done.”

  Only the first inch or two of ground was frozen, though Eren had discovered a capable—if not amusing—method of getting through it. Jumping on the top of the shovel blade with one foot on either side of the handle. Whereas Levi had found a good kick was less draining if only slightly. Though it didn’t shove the blade in as deep.

  Eren began to sweat and discarded his coat by the time they were a foot down. They continued to work mainly in silence with the tenacity of soldiers digging a trench.

  When it was nearing twilight, they hit the top of the trunk somewhere around the three-foot mark.

  “You put this fucking deep.” Eren stepped into the hole, sweeping most of the debris from its lid.

  “That’s your fault too,” Levi said, tossing Eren the end of a rope. “It gets deeper every time.”

  “Last time was you.” Eren found one of the handles and began tying a sturdy knot.

  “It was you,” Levi smirked. “I only opened it this time, never pulled it out.”

  “I was probably trying to keep it safe.” Eren climbed up, stood behind Levi, and picked up the end of the rope. “I’m taller, but you’re stronger.”

  Levi was surprised Eren admitted it. “On three.”

  It was a pain in the ass. The makeshift ramp they had carved at one side of the hole was muddy and bumpy. Levi muscled it while Eren used his longer legs to walk them back and keep the rope from going slack. Levi looked back over his shoulder, Eren was leaning back at an ungodly angle, feet planted firmly on the ground. His teeth were clenched, eyebrows pinched together in a resolute frown.

  “Almost...there,” Eren said and pinched his eyes closed.

  After a monumental tug, the chest emerged from its earthen tomb, frozen dirt falling from its top and tumbling onto the snow. Eren fell on his ass after the final heave, breathing harshly as he laid in the snow. Levi wasn’t sure if he was relieved, giddy, or frightened, but judging by his expression as he stared up in the darkening sky above him, it was a mixture of all those emotions.

  Levi extended his hand, twisting their fingers together and pulled him up to sitting. He looked at his military issue trunk, feeling more numb than he supposed he should have. “There it is,” he said to Eren.

  On the side was stamped, “LEVI ACKERMAN” in faded, spotty letters. Though caked with dirt, below it in small, yet deep, scrawling script was carved, “Eren Yeager.” Levi still wasn’t sure how Eren had achieved it with only the point of a spoon bent gouge and chisel. But he had been a cocky brat about it when he’d done it during The Catalyst.

  Levi smirked to himself. The museum and nation as a whole had been outraged when the chest had gone missing from their collection two centuries before. All the papers across the island had spread the news, theorizing how the thief had moved so many items. There were ‘sightings’ of chests, gear, cloaks, and a burglar described as a hulking man of at least six and a half feet for months. Wanted posters offering a large cash reward stuck with wheat paste to the side of nearly every building. It had given Levi an internal chuckle each time he passed one, though his plan to free Eren’s trunk had been thwarted. It was no longer on display, being moved to a _secret location_ along with many other items which once belonged to “Humanity’s Strongest” and “Humanity’s Hope.”

  “Let’s get it in the car,” Levi said. “It’s going to get dark.”

  Eren scrambled to the chest, touching the lock. He looked up at Levi from where he knelt in the snow. “I want to see.”

  Levi rubbed his temple. He had expected it, knew it would happen. Knew Eren would ask for this. Ever impatient, he wouldn't be able to wait. “For a bit, but we need to get back.” He nearly shivered. The approaching storm felt as if it were dragging its foulness along with it and judging by where he saw lightning on the horizon, they would encounter it on the way home.

  “Quickly…” Eren paused, frowning with shaky fingers skimming the wood top. As if he were trying to decipher its contents from mere feel alone. “I have to look. Just for a moment.”

  Relenting, Levi withdrew a key from his pocket. At least he didn't need to break the lock with brute force this time. He knelt in the snow as Eren made room and thrust it inside. It squeaked as he turned the worn brass in the keyhole, the rusted mechanism straining under Levi’s careful yet persistent twisting. Finally, it came free with a jiggle and a hard knock against the tumblers. “It’s got to be repacked a certain way or the shit doesn't fit.”

  “Okay,” Eren said. “I won't make a mess.”

  Levi stood behind Eren, allowing him to open the box to their past. Other than some drawings and books, Levi had left most of everything intact, as they had packed it during their last incarnation in the house by the sea. It was the happiest of all their lives if he tried to put a metric on it.

  Eren was looking into the trunk. Unmoving save for his short breaths. Eyes widening as his left hand tightened on its edge. The right moved slowly. Hovering over the contents. Only fractions of an inch away from what lay within, as if some invisible force kept his fingertips from meeting the objects inside.

  Clasping his hands together, Levi stole a deep, very, very quiet breath. Everything within him was bunched up and knotted. Too rigid. He’d felt like this before. During the past, in the moments before he’d taken vows with Eren, at times when his end drew near, and he observed Eren watching as he slipped away. He was twisted up too tight. Like a clock after it had been wound and the hands spun a tad too quickly. How it was before he found Eren, ever loosening when he returned and the numbing lull of centuries slowed and synchronized with time’s tick.

  Now the key was thrust into his back, winding him up like a child’s toy as he watched Eren pull a burlap bag from the trunk. It’s why everything had felt off and unsettling. It was why his skin was three sizes too small as he watched Eren stand, close the lid, and sit down on the battered, wooden box held together with all its rusty bindings.

  “Feels like books,” Eren said, clutching the sack as he glanced down next to him. “Rest for a minute.”

  “Your journals and some papers.” Levi sat down, some of the tension draining as he felt Eren’s fingers pressing lightly over his knee. The tender touch kicked more stubborn words from his mouth. “You wrote them to yourself since you don’t remember...smart.”

  “Maybe this time I won’t have to,” Eren said, setting the bag between them and reaching inside. He pulled out an envelope. His fingertips danced across the flap as he looked down at it cradled in his hand. Then his eyes met Levi’s. “Can I?”

  Levi nodded once. “They’re your things too.”

  Thumbing open the vellum, Eren held his breath. His fingers slid in slowly, pulling out a thick lock of hair tied with a band. He laid it on his lap, reverently. With the carefulness demanded of a something precious and breakable.

  “This is mine…”

  “Yes.” Levi held his eyes closed for only a moment. He recalled when he’d taken it. When he was old, and Eren was young, and they had so little time together. Eren had asked Levi for a haircut after he had helped Levi with his own. Levi’s hands and arms were too pained and feeble to properly shave his undercut anymore, though he could still manage scissors. He wasn't sure then why he had saved it and hidden it away in a drawer. It wasn't long he was able to have it and appreciate it, it being added to the chest Eren committed back to the ground only short months later when Levi’s body began to fail, and they knew his end was close.

  During his two lives after that, he was never able to bring himself to take it with him. He recalled this time, fifteen years before, sitting in the summer grass with it cradled in his upturned hands staring at it for what felt like hours. He had been afraid to stroke his fingers over the soft strands for fear he may lose a precious piece. Before he left that day, he secured it back into its hiding place, forbidding himself to look upon it again.

  Levi sat quietly, fingernails digging into his palm while he observed the storm move closer. The lightning in the distance chipped away at the calm he found while Eren stored away his lock of hair and examined a journal from their last life. Huffing out a sigh, Levi took one out for himself. He needed something to do with his hands, even if it were only to hold something in them. To feel the tangible weight of their past.

  He held Eren’s journal on his lap, thumbs tracing over the knot in the leather strip wound around it. Eren’s own fingers had tied it there in their last life. When time was tumbling away too fast for either of them to grasp. Eren had always told Levi with a devoted smile and an earnest frown the journals were for him as well, but Levi could never bring himself to open them. To unwind Eren’s bindings from their covers. It felt like destroying one of the only threads Levi had left during those portions of his lives before Eren returned to him.

  He could feel Eren watching him, heard the sigh matching his own. Eren reached out, holding his hand over Levi’s, and Levi couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “I still tie knots too tight,” Eren said.

   _‘I was alone,’_ Levi thought, the words stuck in his throat. His stupid, stinging eyes would overflow if he voiced it. He gritted his teeth, steeling himself against the thumping in his chest rattling him so thoroughly his shield was beginning to crack. He looked up, through bare, snow-covered branches then down at Eren’s hand squeezing his tight. Over two hundred years of burying their lives, waiting, then digging them up. He wasn’t sure if he could ever do it again.

  He trapped Eren’s hand holding it over his own like Eren always did for him. “We should go soon.” Levi swallowed, inclining his head enough to barely look at Eren.

  Eren was watching him concerned and so understanding it soaked Levi’s skin; Eren’s big fat heart stuck on his sleeve, his bright, green eyes glazed along with Levi’s. “It’s not as easy as I thought.”

  Levi shook his head, looking down at his boot prints in the snow. Eren’s hand shifted, trying to pull the journal from his grasp. He hadn’t realized how tight his fingers were clasped around it.

  Eren reached out to trace the edge of Levi’s jaw. “It feels like it’s going to rain.”

  It had rained the last time they were there together five decades before. Levi had been weak then, weak and old and shivering, having to take too many breaks and watch Eren do more work than him. The crease pressing into his brow was beginning to hurt. Levi shook away the memory and kissed Eren’s cheek, warm against his lips. His fingers relaxed around the book when Eren turned his head and touched their mouths together. Lingering, chaste, and reassuring.  

  Levi released the journal as he and Eren parted.

  He stood, rebuilding his defenses, watching Eren gather books and envelopes and photographs. When everything precious was in his arms, Levi flung open the lid of the trunk. “It’s all shifted, the gear is going to be in the way,” he said, hauling both sets of 3DMG out and onto the snow. “We can put what you have in the burlap and get them in first.”

  Eren was careful, placing everything in the sack and folding the extra fabric over the opening. He set it to a corner. “All right,” he said, dusting his hands.

  Levi lifted the gear, his head shooting up as he tilted it to the side. Instincts blaring, they slipped from his hands and fell to the ground with a clunk.

  “What?” Eren asked, frowning.

  “Shhh,” Levi said, looking at the trees about thirty feet away. The was a crack, then a movement that shook snow from the branches, sending clumps of white colliding to the forest floor.

  The sound came again. Then the rustling of pine needles—too big for an animal, the swoosh of a cable, the sound of metal thunking into wood. Levi crouched, sliding one hand to his boot as he looked Eren in the eyes and brought a finger to his lips.

  “I can hear you,” Levi said as he scanned the nearby canopy, “come the fuck out here.”

  The was a chuckle from above. Chilling and dry, then a thump as Eckhard landed before them.

  Eren stood and moved a few paces back toward Levi, putting distance between them.

  Eckhard eyed them both before his gaze fell to Levi. “I knew I couldn’t sneak up on another Ackerman.”

  “That’s not my name.”

  Eckhard laughed, scratching his fingers through his thin goatee. “Not this time, but it has been before.”

  Levi widened his eyes, feigning ignorance as he rose. He kept his knife pressed flat against the side of his thigh, the handle tucked into his sleeve.

  “You know what I’m talking about,” Eckhard said. He shifted from foot to foot, his hand resting on his hip, near his 3DMG. It wasn’t a configuration Levi recognized. The right blade was long like what they had used during the Catalyst in the early days for killing mindless titans before the war with Marley, though the left was shorter. More like a long dagger. Anti-personnel. Certainly for killing humans.

  Levi swept his eyes up and down Eckhard, narrowing them as he rested his gaze on the maneuver gear. “Books on the Titan Wars, a useless relic around your waist...feeling nostalgic or are you practicing for next year’s parade?”

  Eckhard coughed out a gritty chuckle and looked at the gear by Levi’s feet. “I could ask the same of you.”

  “What do you want, Asshole?” Eren’s fists were in balls, the toe of his boot digging into the ground.

  Levi pressed the inside of his lip between two canines, assessing their situation, running scenarios through his head. Any moment Eren could take off in an attempt to tackle Eckhard. His back was tight, his shoulders set, the muscles in his forearms flexed below the rolled up cuffs of dirt sullied sleeves.  

  “Perhaps he wants to reveal why he’s stalking us,” Levi said. He twitched his forefinger back twice when Eren looked at him. They’d only gone over a few hand signals in the past couple weeks, but perhaps it was enough to let on to Eren what he was thinking.

  Eckhard crossed his arms with a snide twitch of his mouth, exposing his grubby teeth. He leaned back and looked between the two of them. “I suppose it’s only fair,” he said. “I’ve truly got nothing against you two personally.”

  “Then what the hell do you want?” Eren said, stuffing his right hand in his pocket while he took two steps back in Levi’s direction.

  Eckhard was quiet for a moment, his fingers going back to his scraggly chin. An irksome habit of his Levi was beginning to loathe. Pomposity poured off him in waves, and Levi was tempted to punch the revolting smile off his face.

  “I want you, Eren.” Eckhard inclined his head, his brows pinching as he licked his lips, looking at Eren as if he were a meal to be devoured. Possessive, diabolical, and vile. “More to the point, my benefactor needs you.”

  “What the hell are you going on about?” Eren’s expression was darkening, his jaw tight with his confusion and rage.

  “I know you remember,” Eckhard said. “Though how much you remember is the question...not that it’s all that important.”

  “What?” Eren asked.

  “Let’s drop the pretenses,” Eckhard said, looking at Levi. “You both know what I’m talking about.” He tapped his temple, shifting his weight to his left leg. “Of course, we don’t know how much you recall, but you can cut the shit. The war, the titans, if you’re unlucky enough, how it ended for you both.” He paused, his lips pulling into an aberrant grin. “Watching the two of you here tonight made my heart go thumpity-thump.” He patted his chest and tossed his head back, exaggeratedly saccharine. “It’s sweet really...very romantic, but we need Eren, so your time for reunited, domestic bliss has come to an end.”

  Levi was going to kill Eckhard. Carve the smirk off his pointy, imperious face and force feed him his own lips. He would relish watching Eren take his swipes as well. Though he didn’t desire a sanguinary life of savage violence brimming with crushed bodies spent doling out death, Levi would peel Eckhard’s skin from his bones. He would listen to him scream for mercy that would never come. Then he would smash him with his boots until he was a bloody red puddle melting into the snow.

  “Why would you need me for anything?” Eren said. “Did you ever think of asking if you wanted help?”

   _‘Fuck,’_ Levi thought as soon as the words left Eren’s mouth. “Stop with the dramatics. What the fuck do you want?”

  “To bolster the New Eldian Empire, of course.”

  “We did that,” Levi spat. “Over two hundred years ago, or did you not read the history books you bought?”

  Eckhard laughed, dark and mocking. “What a joke!” He spread his arms and returned his right hand to his hip. “This is no _empire_.”

  Eren laughed and rubbed his temples, shaking his head. “You’re on the island of Paradis, home of The New Eldian Empire, Mr. Smartypants.”

  “And what of Paradis?” asked Eckhard, dragging out each word, his voice rising with exaggerated curiosity. “We’ve been cut off for two centuries, isolated, trapped in the past while the rest of the world moves on. We took down the walls and freed ourselves only to live in a self-imposed cage. We live like pigs in shit!”

  “Then move somewhere else, Dickhead,” Eren yelled. “No one’s making you stay here.”

  “They have forgotten, they blaspheme,” Eckhard said. “My lord will remake the world as it was intended to be. As you intended it.”

  “‘They?’ Me? I never said I wanted to remake the world.” Eren looked at Eckhard as if he had said the sky was yellow. His nose was scrunched up, the center of his brow pressed down toward the bridge, regarding Eckhard as if he were the town lunatic wailing nonsense to passersby on a street corner.

  Levi scoffed. “This is boring. I don’t care that you’re someone’s bitch.” His expression fell back to impassive. “Titans and war. Politics. Negotiations. I was there. Idiots like your _lord_ never learn.”

  Eckhard seethed. His eyes narrowed as he gnashed his teeth like a rabid dog about to lunge. “You don’t even have a liege.” Spittle flew from his mouth as if he was spatting out filth.

  Levi tried his best not to shoot Eckhard a grin. He could feel it twitching in his cheeks. “I don’t need a liege, Ratface.”

  “More arrogant than even the history books make you out to be.” Eckhard strutted through the snow, spreading his arms again as he moved to Levi’s left, closer to Eren. Eckhard was trying to distract Levi as he placed his hands back on his hips, curling his fingers around the handles of his blades while at the same time relaxing his stance.

  Eren shifted closer to Levi. Enough Levi could almost reach him. Though he kept his left arm at his side, biding his time. Eckhard was coiled like a snake waiting to strike.

  Eren slipped his arm toward his back as his shifted his weight onto his right foot, toward Levi.

  Then Eckhard shot forward, snatching Eren, before shooting himself near twenty feet back with Eren clutched by his waist and the sword to his throat. Levi blinked. Even the best gear he had ever used never allowed him to move that fast. One moment Eren was only feet from him, the next, he wasn’t.

  Levi ground his teeth together. Heart galloping. “If you let him go, I’ll sever your limbs _after_ you’re dead.” Despite Levi’s threat, the panic he felt was old, worn, and familiarly foreign, seeping through craggy cracks in a wall he once kept better maintained.

  Eckhard laughed, pressing the blade harder against Eren’s neck when his hand slid toward his pocket. “Don’t get any ideas,” he said.

  “Go fuck yourself,” Eren spat, digging his heels into the ground as he bowed his back, trying to distance himself from the blade. His face was twisted into a grimace, his lips spreading in a pugnacious grin as he bared his teeth. His eyes burned like psychotic flames. Eren was about to do something either genius, stupid, or both.

  Levi feinted movement with a twitch of his hand toward his left side, all the while extending his senses as something snapped awake from within. His muscles wound so tight they burned, readying themselves to pounce.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Levi,” Eckhard said, “My boss needs Eren alive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make a mess of him.” He railed in his fist viciously into the center of Eren’s gut, then to his back, square in his kidney.

  Making a choking sound, Eren’s head swayed, then he locked hardened eyes with Levi before it dropped, and he coughed up blood. Levi wished he was wearing the gear sitting in the snow at his feet. He’d have cut the fucker’s head from his shoulders by now if he were. If he were right up close, he would have slit Eckhard’s throat, relishing his face go sickly white as his life drained away, or kick him in his stomach and crush his balls beneath the heel of his boot before he ended him.

  Levi cocked his head. “If you know who we are, you must know you won’t leave here alive.”

  “You’re not as good as you were then, Shorty.”

  “You might say different after I break your teeth and feed them to you.”

  Levi sharpened his focus, trying to watch Eren and Eckhard at the same time, as if through two separate lenses. The sword was pressing hard against Eren’s neck, though there wasn’t any blood. Eren wasn’t the type in any life to submit. Levi had trusted him, and he still did, but they hadn’t fought like this in ages. He took a quiet, slow breath before he let the handle of his knife drop. It felt like a thousand years passed after it flew from his hand and struck Eckhard across the side of his neck then skittered off to the left.

  Time continued to crawl as Levi watched Eren wrap his hands around Eckhard’s blade and heave. Crimson stained white as blood from his palms dripped onto the snow. Eckhard went off balance, losing the grip on his sword as he clutched his bleeding neck. Then Levi saw a flash of silver as he drove his dagger up between Eren’s ribs, no doubt into his lung.

  Levi flew toward Eckhard, drawing the big buck knife holstered under his left arm.

  Eckhard pulled something from beneath his coat as he darted to the side away from Eren. He pointed a gun in Levi’s direction.

 _‘Spineless milksop,’_ was Levi’s last thought before he heard the shot.

  There was an explosion. A crack of lightning. A burst of steam. Then Levi’s ears ringing after a gust sent him careening into the trunk of the tree.

  Shaking his head, Levi stilled his oscillating vision and reclaimed his focus before he felt a deafening roar rock the hills. Forlorn and infuriated.

  Levi sat up and peered over a curious wall of what looked to be crystal between him and where he stood moments before. He saw gargantuan hands clutched in fists. Then came the rumble of a goliath foot stomping into the fluff and shaking the ground.

  Levi’s limbs went cold.

  All the warmth washed away from the length of his body and drained from his feet as he remembered carrying Eren through the forest of big trees. Then bringing him back home.

  Then he remembered Eren dying.

  His stomach churned with a caustic burn, stabbing into his heart before it bottomed out when an enraged howl shook the forest.

  Levi peered through the mist. And then the entirety of his world spiraled from his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ╰(*´︶`*)╯Feedback is always appreciated. <3


	18. Part Two - Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accompanying artwork for the story can be viewed on my Tumblr [here.](https://ittybittyteapot.tumblr.com/post/177204513913/the-amazing-artwork-i-commissioned-from-my)

  As the steam dissipated, Levi lifted his gaze and saw what he already knew was there.

  Eren’s titan.

  Almost the same as before, yet different. Smooth and perfect. Long hair flowing like liquid flames down his back. He practically gleamed. Eren’s form resembled one of those depicted in ancient paintings of the old gods hanging in a museum. His tanned skin shone golden, casting a lambent halo into the darkness. The curves of his muscles were defined, bulky, and sleek. As if they were chiseled from marble. His jaw and chin were sharp, and his lipless mouth exposed a set of razor-sharp teeth.

  Despite his new majesty, Eren was screaming and raging. Swatting his fists and snapping his mouth open and shut at Eckhard as he dodged him, attempting to make his escape.

  Levi wiped the back of his hand across his lips. His eyes remained fixed on Eckhard, who flew up into the trees. Even in the moonlit forest, Levi noted the smirk spreading across his burnt face.

  “I wasn’t expecting this,” Eckhard said, “but I’ll see you soon.”

  Eren swung his head in Eckhard’s direction, his luminous, green eyes flaring and igniting with fury.

  Levi could tell by the set of his back foot he was prepared to take off running. Catapulting the crystal wall, he sprinted for his old blades. Seizing them without slowing as he bolted toward Eren’s massive right leg and jumped. His swords pierced Eren’s calf. And then Levi climbed.

  He held on as tight as he could, scaling Eren with his blades like ice picks in a mountainside until he reached his ear.

  “Eren!” he yelled.

  A growl was his only answer as Eren lurched forward. Levi lost his balance and clung on to a lock of hair to keep from falling.

  “Eren, damn it!” Bracing himself, Levi kicked at the inside of his ear. “Stop so I can cut you out.”

  Crystalline spikes erupted from the ground twenty yards ahead, pursuing Eckhard as he swung through the trees. He dodged each haphazardly and with less grace than Levi would have expected. Though it was unrefined and jerky, Eckhard spun away until he was a speck in the inky distance then beyond Levi’s vision.

  Eren howled, irate and raving, stomping his foot as a great spire of rock rose out of the earth before them.

  Eyes widening, Levi whispered, “Warhammer?”

  He shook away the stupefaction and searched his mind when Eren licked his chops and slammed his armored fists together. They couldn't follow Eckhard. He wasn't sure if Eren was even cognizant. Going by his posture and roaring, he was poised for a rampage. His destruction during the festival in Marley flashed behind Levi’s eyes. The broken buildings in Trost, Stohess, and Shiganshina. The nearest town was close enough a fuming Eren could be there within the hour. Eren needed to focus.

  Poisonous words coalesced on Levi’s tongue. “I didn't give you permission!” he bellowed, driving a blade through Eren’s earlobe.

  Eren’s head snapped up before his titan slumped and fell to its knees. Steam shot from his nostrils as he released what Levi could only describe as a whimper.

  A burning knot expanded in Levi’s chest. He grimaced at the pain.

  As Eren went still, Levi dropped to a massive collarbone using his swords to steady himself. He had no wires to use as anchors or Eren would already have been out. His heart thumped so fast he couldn’t keep count of its beats anymore, but Levi used his blades to maneuver through Eren’s hair to the back of his neck.

  Eren rumbled with a questioning whine but leaned his head forward, and Levi patted the flesh right above where he knew Eren was. “I’ll be careful,” Levi said. “Stay still.”

  He never thought he would do it again; plunge a sword into a titan nape and cut Eren out. Over two hundred years and his hands and aim were as accurate as they had ever been. Eren pulled away from the squishy insides with less effort than after most of Hanji’s experiments. He was limp and only partially conscious as he came free. To Levi’s relief, he still possessed his face, and his limbs were intact.

  “Levi,” Eren mumbled, head flopping back onto Levi’s bicep.

  “Don’t pass out.” Evaluating their surroundings and the safest way to descend, Levi assessed their position; the distance to the ground, the slope of Eren’s titan back. He pitched one of the swords to the ground, watching it slide down the flesh and come to rest next to a giant foot. The steam was already enveloping them, making it difficult to see.

  “Almost there.” Levi hefted Eren over his shoulder and tromped down the massive body as well as he could with one sword for balance and dead weight in his arms. He stumbled, cursing his feet for not obeying and making him catch his fall more than once. When he was halfway down Eren’s spine, he nearly slipped again. The remainder of their descent was precarious and Levi’s knees buckled as he jumped down from Eren’s titan ass, onto a heel, then to the ground.

  Blistering steam was already rising, forcing him to trudge along and put distance between them and Eren’s dissolving shell.

  When they were far enough, he pulled Eren from his shoulder and collapsed with him sprawled over his lap. “Fuck,” Levi muttered, admonishing his weakness. His current body’s inability to follow his commands as others had.

  “Levi?”

  “Right here,” he said, brushing his fingers over Eren’s cheek. His vision narrowed, Eren becoming the cynosure of Levi’s eyes. Memories of blood, death, and severed limbs overlaying Eren slack in his arms as he held him, watching him begin to lose consciousness.

  He smacked Eren’s face. “Eren!” It sounded like a child’s cry to his own ears. Harsh, high pitched, and anguished.

  Bloody hands flew up to Eren’s cheeks, groping at his scars there. His pupils expanded and contracted. Like the lenses of binoculars twisting in and out of focus. He raised his arms and looked at his palms. He looked at Levi. He patted his wounded, bleeding side. Eren’s mouth opened like a scream was trying to escape, but nothing came. And then he looked like a fearful, threatened animal; shocked and panicked and despaired.

  “I’m, I’m, I’m…” Eren croaked.

  Gripping the front of Levi’s shirt, Eren’s eyes went wide, and Levi felt wet warmth souse his own pants and long johns as the smell of urine reached his nose.

  Eren sniveled and rolled in his arms, trying to move away, but Levi didn’t let go even as Eren turned his face toward the snow and threw up. Retching while Levi held him in his grasp. He could feel Eren’s stomach contract each time he gagged, his fingertips digging into his forearms. Then finally, great heaving breaths as he filled his lungs. Levi pulled the stray hair out of his face when Eren coughed, but Eren shoved him back, looking up at him horrified with tears dripping down his scarred cheeks.

  Maybe Levi was still asleep in their bed and this was a nightmare, a confabulation come to creep around like that diseased rat.

  Eren scrambled to sit up, swaying, nearly sagging into his own muck. “I pissed on you!” He shuddered, scanning Levi and the ground between them. “I puked on you.”

  Levi felt Eren’s sick soaking through his pant leg, saw blood-tinged piss staining the snow pink. “So what,” he said, crawling forward through the filth befouled earth and wrestling Eren into his embrace. He was tense and resistant, pushing his fists up against Levi’s chest. Levi tugged Eren back onto his lap and he didn’t let go. Eren fought and shivered. He blubbered and whispered, “no, no, no, no, no, no.” And then he crumpled and keened into Levi’s neck and wept.

  Cradling Eren’s head, Levi combed his fingers through his hair, and let him cry and cling. Levi didn’t feel the cold or the damp, itchy burn of Eren’s bodily fluids drenching his trousers. He felt trembling and hot tears on the prickling skin of his chest as all of Eren’s torment erupted and spilled over.

  Eren’s energy and his tears ran out like a rainstorm subsiding to a drizzle after the deluge was spent. Like wind dying and the sound of thunder muting and muffling. Slipping softly away until it slept. He tilted his head up and gazed at Levi. The dismay and anguish blinking back behind his eyes as Levi wiped away the tears beneath them.   

  There was a sharp lump pushing outward against Levi's back and throat, but he opened Eren’s vest and examined the wound where Eckhard’s blade had plunged into his side. Steam. Eren was overheated. His snow and rain dampened clothes clung to him. Levi felt Eren’s forehead. It was burning along with the rest of his body, melting the snow into gritty slush that wet their clothes. Ignoring it, Levi took Eren’s hands in his own and checked his palms. They were beginning to heal, though lacerated and exposing the bone.

  It was obvious Eren was stifling a grimace as he stared at him, eyes once more glazing and clearing.

  “Did I hurt anyone?” Eren asked.

  “No.” Levi brushed the backs of his fingers down Eren’s cheek. “Can you stand?”

  Eren reached around to the back of Levi’s head, and said, “You’re bleeding.” His fingers were twitching against Levi’s neck, eyes rolling back and refocusing in time with their tap.

  “It’s only a bump,” Levi said. He touched his fingers to the back of his head. He could feel the blood slipping down his neck. It didn’t hurt, but he closed his eyes and shook off the dizziness as it began to rain, the droplets seeming to fall as slow as snowflakes around them. His heart shredded in his chest as he watched Eren battling to stay conscious. His gaze flicked around. His muscles bunched. The hairs on the backs of his arms and neck rose. “We have to get the fuck out of here.”

   _‘Get Eren in the car. Get the trunk in the car. Get home.’_

  Time stretched as he hooked Eren under his arms, Levi’s thighs and back burning with an unfamiliar fire as he stood them up.

  Eren wobbled, bringing his hand to his hair and tugging. “It hurts.”

  Levi’s head pounded in sympathy as he led them through their trail of boot tracks. His heart ached with it as he pulled a stumbling Eren thirty feet which felt more like three-hundred.

  Bracing Eren to his side, Levi wrenched open the car door then leaned Eren against it. He grasped his face forcing him to hold eye contact. “Can you hold yourself up?”

  “Yeah.” Eren nodded.

  There was a tarpaulin behind the seat. Levi intended it to prevent dirtying Dahlia’s car with the trunk, but he and Eren were a bigger mess. Levi didn’t give it much thought, but Eren would. He’d strip Eren down and wrap him in his blanket to protect his modesty if it wasn’t the middle of winter.

  When he was finished spreading it across the bench seat, he guided Eren into the car, holding his hand behind his head so he didn’t bump it. Eren’s eyes closed in what appeared mild relief as he relaxed into the canvas covered leather.

  Eren was mumbling something, kicking his foot and twitching his arm. Calling for Levi between babbled phrases. Levi brushed the back of his fingers over Eren’s temple.

  “Stay in the car,” he said, wishing he could be in two places at once. He couldn’t leave the trunk.

  “I want a bath,” Eren groaned.

  “I know, Brat.” He squeezed Eren’s hand.

  Shutting Eren’s door, Levi peered through the glass at him half awake and scarred through rivulets of the rain splattered on the window. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He wrapped his fingers around the door handle and shook his head so hard his eyes hurt. _‘One, two, three, four, five,’_ one deep breath, _’five, four, three, two, one.’_

  He glanced down at Eren and ground his teeth together before he ordered his legs to move, sprinting as fast as he could to the chest. He threw everything inside, collected his second sword, then flung the lid shut. It didn’t close all the way, but it was good enough for dragging to Dahlia’s car.

  The rope over his shoulder dug into his skin, at times slipping through his fingers as he pulled. He should be able to move faster. His hands should have been calloused enough to withstand it. His flesh was already ripping, he felt the grating of hemp against skin where blisters would no doubt rise. When he reached the car, his palms were bloody in spots.

  He glared down at his hands, glanced at Eren in the front seat, still groaning and murmuring incomprehensible words. “Shit, fuck!” Levi snarled, scowling at his wounded fingers. He shook off the mild pain with an irate kick to the trunk.

  Dragging a deep breath, Levi filled his lungs and set his shoulders straight.

   _‘Get the trunk in the car. Check on Eren. Get home. Cool Eren down. Protect.’_

  Adding to the mental list he was already compiling, he took out the gear. He didn’t have time to get it all on properly. He fastened the belt around his waist with raw, unsteady hands. Fit his boots through foot braces meant to be worn under shoes, clinked his knuckles against tanks that were once full but had no doubt lost all their gas, then fastened them to his hips and threw what was utterly useless back in the trunk. It was clunky and greasy and sharp in the corners and there was no hope of driving with the cylinder strapped to his back. Despite the fruitlessness of donning what he could of his weaponry, it calmed the pounding in his chest, the rampant pulse threatening to pop his arteries, the anxious sense of nudity he felt out in the forest.

  He shook his head and heaved the footlocker into the back, then slammed the trunk closed.

  Rounding the car, Levi cranked it, then dashed to its interior, turned the key, adjusted the timing, and strode back through muddy slush and the downpour to finetune the choke. His clothes were soaked, chilling him to his spirit. He cranked it again. The machine didn’t start.

  Levi kicked a tire on the way to the car’s cab. When he opened the door to try again, Eren reached out and clutched his hand.

  His voice was raspy. Like his throat was filled with sharp pebbles. “You flooded it.”

  “Flooded...” Levi uttered.

  Eren nodded and swallowed dryly. “You have to open the hood,” he whispered. “The fuel has to evaporate.”

  Levi gritted his teeth and resisted smashing the dials on the dash. “How long ‘til we can leave this shit place?”

  “Twenty minutes probably.” Eren closed his eyes again.

  Levi didn’t rip the gear shift off the column. He didn’t slam the door. He closed it quietly and moved to the engine compartment. The headlamps looked like they were glaring back. Mocking him.

  He stared. Rage building, pressing from the inside, making his skin feel too stretched, too thin, his body too small for it. “Fucking engines,” he muttered, grappling for the release. “That’s why we used fucking horses...give him a carrot...and some praise...brush her coat...” Levi’s fingers searched for the latch. Oily and wet, slipping on grease. He ground his teeth and punched the hood, shouting, “Fuck! Fuck this!”

  Levi didn’t feel pain as much as the jarring sensation of muscle and bone colliding with the now buckled metal beneath his fist. “Infernal contraption,” he murmured, then pulled his hand away and examined his flexing fingers. His heart lurched when he noticed Eren watching him through the window. Concerned and perhaps a bit shocked at his outburst, at the blood on his hand. Levi closed his eyes and sighed.

  He found the release, lifted the hood, curses pushing their way past his jaw wound tight as he walked to the door and crammed himself back inside. When Eren slid himself closer and rested his head on his arm, Levi felt his anger shift. From a spinning, spikey torrent to a dull, red throb. He could wait to fantasize about running Eckhard and his boss over with Dahlia’s fucking car until Eren was better.

  “Sorry I’m no help,” Eren said, rubbing his forehead harder into Levi’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shhh,” Levi said. Almost a coo, as he tangled their fingers together. The gear prevented him from holding Eren as he needed, as Levi wanted to. So much his skin stung and burned with the need.

  He looked at his pocket watch and noted the time, then pet Eren’s head. His erratic breathing was evening out, slowing down to somewhere near normal.

  Eren was sniveling and pulling at his shirt buttons. And then he was coughing.

  “Water,” Levi said, stretching his leg to reach his satchel with his foot. He pulled out a canteen, the metal container felt slippery in his grasp. The cap was sneaky between his fingertips as he unscrewed it then pressed the opening to Eren’s lips.

  He drank it down with humming gulps. Like he had never tasted fresh water before. When he’d had enough he tilted his head away and dragged in heavy breaths like he needed to fill himself with air too. “M’ throat’s dry,” Eren said bringing his hand to his neck.

  Eren’s voice cut through decades, small and achy in a way Levi hadn’t suspected he would hear again. He closed his eyes and held his hand against Eren’s cheek. Reliving memories of the secret sound of it; quiet and locked away in their room. A voice Levi only heard when Eren would shed his courage and valiance and fearlessness. When his audacious bravado was stripped away and all that was left was a small, fearful boy who clung to Levi and fought not to lose himself.

  “Don’t leave me,” Eren said.

  “Only to start the car.” Levi looked at his watch again. Thirteen more minutes until he would make another attempt. “We have shit to do.”

  “You’re still bleeding.” Eren grasped Levi’s shirt collar. “You need a bandage.”

  He could feel the blood-soaked fabric, the sticky wetness on his skin. They didn’t have a medical kit. Levi cursed the head wound. “Fucking things always bleed and bleed,” he groused as he ripped his left shirt sleeve off at the shoulder.

  Eren’s lips tipped on the left and he sighed when Levi began tearing the fabric into strips. Levi found the wound easy enough. A good sized gash on the back left, right above where his undercut began. The stupid thing probably needed stitches. It would leave a nasty scar. It would cause Eren to fret. So he tied the cloth around his head as tight as he could, knotting it above his right brow.

  Grateful eyes regarded Levi as Eren pulled a strand of hair out from under the makeshift bandage. “You look better in your hat.”

  “It’s in the trunk.”

  “Do you think he’ll come back?” Eren asked.

  “Of course he will.”

  “I mean tonight,” Eren said, and coughed up blood and steam. It landed on his shirt, spreading to meet the blob of red soaking from the side of his chest.  

  “No,” Levi said. “He needs to heal up. He looked burned and I fucked up his neck.”

  “I’m going to rip his arms off.”

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  Eren looked maniacal, psychotic. His lips were pulled into a frightening grin. Every tooth in his mouth exposed. Like a miniature version of his titan. “I’m going to chew him into pulp and spit him out.” He licked his lips.

  “Tch,” Levi clicked his tongue and pressed a vision of Eren killing Willy Tyber to the back of his head. Eren’s crazy eyes when he had recounted it, his smirk, his righteous indignation at Levi’s anger with him. “Worry about healing now.”

  “I don’t remember how.”

  “Concentrate,” Levi said. “You used to concentrate.”

  Eren sniffed. “Can’t right now,” he said, “or I get lost in the memories. It’s already hard not to.”

  “How can I help?”

  “Talk to me,” Eren whispered. “Tell me about what we’ll have for dinner tonight. Tell me about your favorite tea and why sugar and cream ruins it. Tell me about bedtime. Tell me what you’ll do to me later when we’re under the blankets.”  

  Levi swallowed down a wave of hot, thorny, momentary weakness, and acquiesced. He held Eren’s hand, gave him water, and told him about the best Oolong tea he ever had the pleasure of sipping. He told Eren they would travel to Mitras and buy a tin from the withered, old woman who ran the tea shop. Levi told Eren how she had kind eyes and gentle hands but had scolded him and slapped his fingers when he left the infusion to steep too long. And he whispered in Eren’s ear how much he would love the flavor. Eren whispered back how Levi’s kisses would taste like tea, and how his grey eyes would gleam as he sniffed the steam from the cup.

  “Brat,” Levi said softly back.

  Eren laughed and poked Levi in his sore ribs, and he looked like his Eren again. Like Eren had in the afterglow the evening before. With fond, glinting eyes; soft and devoted and staring into him. A dimple pressed into his cheek. Floaty and warm as if he could have laid there in the bed with Levi until the end of their days.

  Levi allowed himself the smallest smile, melancholy and bittersweet, then checked his pocket watch, Eren’s momentary mirth leaving the stench and the blood and the despair forgotten. And for one fraction of a moment, Levi found comfort inside the forsaken car they were marooned in.

  Twenty-one minutes.

  “Right back,” Levi said to Eren with a parting touch to his hand.

  His motions were mechanical as Levi left the car, closed the hood, made adjustments, then back and forth again. When the car started, it did with a backfire and a rumble. He wrestled himself inside with the gear grinding into his hips and smashing into his thighs. Then he closed the door and let out the breath that was burning his lungs.

  Levi looked over at Eren beside him, his hand next to his leg. He shifted and pressed the accelerator, rocketing forward harder than he would have liked and slammed them back in the seat. Eren’s eyes were open, but what was there only minutes before was gone. There was nothing behind them. Nothing or too much. Like he was staring up past the roof of the vehicle, past the trees and the sky and into the cosmos, counting the stars. Somewhere that took him far away from Levi’s grasp.

  “Eren?”

  “Levi?” Eren was pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

  “Keep talking.” Levi let go of the wheel with one hand, bracing the other tighter around it, and found fingers to link with his own. He drank up all the contact he could for the moment. “Stay with me,” he mumbled. At least if Eren was speaking, Levi knew he hadn’t lost him. That he hadn’t fallen into a coma or worse. He reluctantly drew his hand back to the wheel and fiddled with the gear as they turned back onto the road, nearly stalling when they climbed a hill.

  “Captain...Captain,” Eren whispered, and Levi ground his teeth as he willed his foot to stay glued to the pedal.

 

*****

 

  They weren’t safe. How Eckhard had found them or where he came from was a mystery. It was like a ghost was chasing them down. Too many ghosts.

  Eren’s lifespan sat festering in the base of Levi’s skull. His heart had fallen when he saw Eren’s titan. Whatever pit it had tumbled into was bottomless. It was still sinking, gaining speed, shoving against more immediate concerns as it plummeted. Like a rock smashing against the stone walls of a well on its way down, down, down.

  Eren’s arm grappled in his direction, searching. Seeking contact as Levi wrestled with the gear shift. He couldn’t take it in his own.

  “Eren?” Levi asked when Eren babbled and whined again.

  “The potato plants have beetles on them…your parents sent a letter,” Eren said, then, “Everyone hates me.”

  “They’re memories.” Levi wasn’t sure if he said it more to himself or Eren. He recalled both occasions. One from a life before The Catalyst, then something he said during The Titan War. He suspected at first, Eren was experiencing the lives of the former shifters, but if he remembered the destroyed crop, it wasn’t only that. What if it were too much?

  “Fucking fuck…” He slammed the car into second gear. Wishing Hanji was there. She would know how best to care for Eren. After a while, she would drive Levi mad with it, but she would have theories on theories of how Eren was a shifter again. Who Eckhard was, how Eren healed like any other person the day before, then suddenly burst into a titan.

  Eren gripped his head again, wailing, and Levi drove as fast as the car allowed. The pedal was to the floor but it was still too slow. Rain poured down. The road was in shambles. He squinted, looking past the big fat droplets and the wiper for the tracks they had made on the way, all the while his heart smashed against his ribs in time with the imperiling beat of the deluge against steel; thunderous, booming, and violent. Adding to the fear they’d slip off the road.

  Levi tallied off the mental list as his fingers clutched the steering wheel, going white and aching with tension. _‘Get Eren home. Fix Eren’s head. Kill Eckhard. Kill Eckhard’s lord. Find out who did this to Eren. Kill them too. Make certain Eren lives.’_

  He spun it in his mind over and over and over as they drove. Only stopping when Eren sat up, arms and legs flailing as he yelled, “I have to throw up!”  

  Levi’s shield remained upright as he placed his hand on the small of Eren’s back and kept the car running. Another tear formed in his heart that he quickly stitched up when Eren wiped his chin with his sleeve, shut the car door, and floated away once again.

  Levi jammed the pedal back to the floor.

  Hours stretched out like the sluggish journey of a snail from one side of a garden to the other. The tree line and ruts in the road Levi’s only guide, but he propelled them forward. Trost was visible in the distance the third time Eren demanded he stop.

 _‘So fucking close,’_ Levi thought.

  Eren flung open the door and retched bile onto the snow. Levi scrambled as close as he could when Eren clutched his stomach, convulsing and crying, head hanging off the seat. His foot slipped from the clutch and the car lurched violently as it stalled. For the sake of Eren’s head, he suppressed the curse he wanted to yell, got out, and went to his side.

  Stepping in vomit, Levi crouched before Eren, pushing sweaty hair off his piqued face. He kissed his forehead. “Done?” he asked, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping Eren’s mouth.

  Eren nodded, and Levi propped him up carefully, leaning him against the seat. He was still too hot, but he was shivering. Levi took his blanket from where he had packed it when they left. He draped it over Eren, tucking it around his shaking shoulders and arms, all the way up to his jaw.

  “We’re close,” he said, “just a little farther.” He held Eren’s face bracketed between his hands and pressed their brows together. A silent promise of _“I’ll take care of you”_ when their gazes met.

  For the first time during their return trip, though exhausted and distraught, Eren’s eyes looked like his own. Clear and beautiful and deep. “I want to go home,” he whispered, chin quivering, green shining as tears gathered again.

  “Not much longer,” Levi said, words almost faltering. Eren needed comfort. He needed to be held. Like in the past when Eren would curl up as small as he could in Levi’s embrace, and Levi would wrap himself around him until he felt so much bigger than he was. When Eren’s hair would tickle Levi’s chin and get caught in the stubble as he pressed his ear to the center of his chest. When Levi would breathe past his own pain, inhaling clean linens, battle, blood, and Eren.

  Fighting against the instinct to give comfort for the instinct to make them safe, Levi shut the door, started the car with better precision than he had thus far, and sat back behind the wheel. _‘Get Eren home, Get Eren home, Get Eren home…’_ On and on and on, a litany of orders banged in Levi’s mind like the scream of an angry sergeant all the way into the town until he turned into the alley behind the shop. They splashed through a puddle and came to rest none too gently, as Levi’s foot left the clutch.

  It was momentary and fractional, but relief warmed Levi’s frosty limbs as he exited the car and unlocked the back door. He unwrapped Eren, tossed the balled up blanket aside on the seat, and pulled him to his feet.

 “Home?” Eren asked in a whisper, throwing his arm over Levi’s shoulder.

 “Yes.”

  Eren swayed in Levi’s arms. He took trembling step after trembling step while Levi guided him through their welcoming back door then climbed stairs that felt dichotomously wrong. As if they were taller than they were before they left. Steeper and darker and too narrow for even Levi’s small feet. Eren leaned on Levi as he thrust the key in the lock, turned the handle, and kicked the door open with a bang. Eren was nearly falling when they made it to the couch.

  “I’m going to ruin it,” Eren yelled, clutching at Levi.

  “So am I,” Levi said. “We’ll buy a new one.”

  Eren’s face scrunched up. “No.” He looked horrified at his pants, then at the furniture.

  Levi sighed and pulled the throw from the back. Balancing Eren with one arm, he spread it over the cushions with the other. Levi didn’t care. He could wash the couch. He could throw it into the alley and buy a new one. They could set it on fire in the courtyard.

  “It’s all right,” Levi assured, helping Eren to sit as his eyes rolled back again. He grabbed Eren’s face between his thumb and fingers and shook until he looked at him.

  “I didn’t know,” Eren croaked, steam puffing from between his parched lips. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Levi strode to the kitchen sink, the poorly attached gear knocking into his thighs with bruising force. He filled a glass with water and gave it to Eren. “Drink. And don’t move. I have to get the trunk.”

  Eren took a gulp and nodded.

  Cursing Eckhard again, Levi crossed the floor, ignoring the mud from their boots and descended the steps. He dragged the trunk from the car and pushed it inside with repeated kicks of his foot, then grabbed hold of the blanket on the driver’s side of the seat and slammed Dahlia’s car door shut so hard it was likely he woke the entire block. Back inside, he locked the door, then barred it, and hasted upstairs.

  Eren was still on the couch. His half empty glass slipping from his clutch. Levi readjusted it with fingers that quivered as much as Eren’s when he wrapped his hand around it as Levi nudged it more securely into his grasp. “Sip it,” Levi said. “Your stomach’s empty.”

  Levi’s heart continued its descent as he watched Eren drink. He was pale, his lips ringed blue like he’d been out in the cold too long. Sticky, sweaty, puke soaked hair clung to his face. He’d gotten it on his shirt too. The scars were still on his cheeks and neck, angry crimson carved into his beautiful tanned skin. Levi swallowed down whatever vicious, sharp little rock was making its home in his throat.

  “Wait here.” Levi rose, going to the washroom to run the bath. He thrust a washrag under the faucet as he tested its temperature, then set it across Eren’s forehead when he returned.

  Eren was on fire. His skin hotter than it was after the museum. Any regular human would be dead. Their brain cooking in their skull like an egg boiling for breakfast in its shell.

  “I didn’t know,” Eren said again, straightening himself on the couch. Whatever moment of clarity he was having, Levi could see it in his eyes. In the pull of his lips. In the sorrowed line etching his forehead.

  “Didn’t know what?”

  “I didn’t lie to you.”

  Levi put his hand on Eren’s knee, ignoring the mud dried to it. “I don’t think you’re a liar.”

  Eren shook and choked, words coming out in a strained gasp, sending vapors into Levi’s face. “Am I dreaming?” He gulped on air. “I don’t want to be this again.”

  He squeezed Eren’s leg, trying to reassure himself as much as Eren.  “We’re going to fucking fix it.”

  “I don’t want to die.” Eren eyes filled with tears, overflowing and spilling down the grooves carved into his cheeks when he blinked. His hands shook, reaching toward Levi, grasping at his filthy shirt.

  A plethora of questions stuffed themselves in Levi’s head, thick and tangled and throbbing. Expanding with a pressure so great, he wasn’t sure how his skull didn’t explode. He felt like a bomb. Pulse rising as he hurtled closer to detonation with a steady, tick, tick, tick.

  Setting Eren’s water aside, Levi wrapped his arms around Eren, and pulled him to his chest, ignoring the 3DMG digging into his hips as Eren shuddered and sobbed and soaked his shirt.

  “I just found you,” Eren said against Levi, his voice muffled and coarse.

  ‘ _I won’t let you die,’_ Levi thought as he pulled in a sharp breath.

  “We have time,” Levi voiced instead. His mind wandered to the Marley titan research locked in the museum in Mitras. Hanji had been using what she had already acquired of it to work on a cure before Eren died. He wouldn’t give Eren what could be false hope. Not now. Not that night. But he would ransack the entire building if something which could save Eren was there.

  “I’m all right,” Eren said, slumping on the sofa and wiping his eyes. “I understand now.”

  Levi frowned. _‘Understand?’_ He needed more information. “Who did this?” Levi asked, seeking an explanation during Eren’s moment of lucidity.

  Eren was quiet for a long time. Looking across the room, at the water sloshing in his cup, then at Levi. His eyelids dropped, and he held them shut, his brows smashing together before they snapped open. “No one did.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. Eren was still confused. “Someone had to. Like Grisha did last time.”

  “No!” Eren slammed his fist into the couch cushion, snarling, “I was born like this.”

  “You’d be dead by now.”

  “No.” Eren stared at Levi, eyes sparkling with clarity. “I know. I remember.”

  Levi cleared his throat, tilting his head as he blew out a long slow breath. “You remember what?” he asked, heart jumping. It was like Eren was holding out an unopened box of forbidden secrets before him.

  “Everything,” Eren said, then with a hiss, added, “Artemis is a gossipy bitch. Watch out for her.”

   _‘Who the fuck is Artemis?’_ The light flickered in the lamp, painting Eren in a deranged glow.

   “She ruined Harold and Emma’s wedding,” Eren continued in an accented whisper as if he were letting Levi in on a dirty, wicked secret. “Got Joseph the baker to put salt in their cake.”

  “That so?”

  Eren’s eyelids fluttered open and shut. He reached his hand up, watching something Levi couldn’t see, eyes twinkling in what appeared to be momentary peace. He smiled. “Levi, you’re so pretty with the sun setting behind you.”

  There was a prickly stab in the back of Levi’s throat like swallowing a ball of sandpaper. Taking a swift sniff to halt the hitch in his breath, Levi shut out his own memory. “Thanks.”

  “And then you died.” Eren laughed and smacked his knee. “You left me alone. No more pretty, pretty...” he trailed off.

  It cut into a nerve so deep Levi felt it in the soles of his feet. He tugged at the cuff of his shirt and gulped down his guilt like a bolder as he felt Eren’s burning forehead. The bath only sounded halfway full. What the fuck was taking it so long?

  Eren scratched at his leg. “I’m itchy. I smell terrible.”

  Clenching his hands open and shut four times, Levi forced them to begin unfastening Eren’s suspenders. “What kind of oil for your bath?”

  “Lavender,” Eren said blinking.

  Levi’s tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. His mouth was too dry. “Your favorite.”

  “Mhmm,” Eren hummed. “I want a very soft towel too.”

  “All right.”

  “And the good soap.”

  “Of course.” Levi forced a light lift of his lips and slammed an unchecked wave of emotions back into his guts.

  Eren scanned himself when Levi reached for the button at his waist. His eyes fixed on the drool on his shirt, then the blood where Eckhard had stabbed him, and finally to his piss drenched pants. “I’m disgusting.”

  “Just dirty.” Levi felt Eren’s forehead again. Still too hot. “You’ll be clean soon.”

  Though he nodded through what looked to be another wave of excruciating pain, Eren smiled as best it seemed he could, eyeing Levi’s hips. “You’re still wearing the gear?” Eren smirked. “It looks stupid.”

  Levi stood and handed Eren back his cup. “Drink your fucking water.”

  The weapon was useless in its current state, though Levi frowned despite the realization. He needed to service it and fill the tanks again. He would repair Eren’s as well. He may have bumbled getting Eren off his titan, his body may not have been used to the gear anymore, but he still remembered how to work on it. Regardless of how nonsensical it felt, he didn’t want to take it off. It wasn’t even on properly.

  When Eren continued to watch him, Levi’s fingers went to the belt, tracing over the buckle there.

  Eren reached out and squeezed his hand. “I know you don’t want to,” he said. “It’s like when you would sleep in your uniform and harness.”

  “Tch.” Relenting, Levi unfastened the gear and stowed it in the cleaning closet for the moment. Then he went back to undressing Eren. Removing his boots and wool socks, before peeling the soiled clothes from his body.

  He was incoherent again, steaming from everywhere. Between two of Eren’s ribs was a shiny half-healed scar. Levi ran his fingertips over it, transfixed as his heart gave a kick. Eren really wasn’t mending as quickly as he used to.

 The fog rose toward the ceiling. Eren had healed like a normal person when he’d broken his fingers and ripped open his knuckles. In the past few weeks, Levi had seen Eren with nicks and bruises. He’d left love bites on his body which lingered for days. Now he was steaming from his palms, the wound to his side, his ears, nose, mouth, nipples. Every orifice his body possessed.

  “Look, Levi,” Eren whispered, drawing his gaze. “It’s like a teapot!”

  Had it not been so absurd, had someone not just stabbed Eren and tried to kidnap him, Levi probably would have laughed. Eren was poking his dick with his index finger, watching fascinated as steam streamed out the tip.

  The knot in Levi’s chest unfurled a fraction as he felt a twitch in his cheek. “Yes,” he sighed. “Very interesting.”

  “It is!” Eren said, sounding genuinely excited. He seemed more like he had gotten into the whiskey stash, and Levi wished that was all it was. Squeezing his cock, Eren examined it with careful attention. “Ooh! Less is coming out now.”

  “Indeed.” Levi released a deep breath, and wrapped an arm around Eren, hiking him up to his feet as gently as he could. If Eren could toy with his steaming penis, he could probably make it to the washroom with some aid. Better than Levi having to carry him.

  “But I was playing with it,” Eren grumbled as he found his balance.

  “You can in the tub.” Levi kicked the end table out of their way with his left foot. Though snickering, and seemingly doltish and light as Levi led them to the bathroom, Eren still felt like he was on fire. Levi’s own body was perspiring where Eren was pressed against him. As much as he never shunned Eren being clingy and glued to him, Levi breathed, “Thank fuck” when they made it to the edge of the tub.

  “Hang onto me,” Levi said. “Lift your foot.”   

  Eren groused and whined as he set one foot in, then the other.

  “Almost in.”

  “Too cold!” Eren howled as soon as his ass touched the water. He flailed and tried to climb out. “You’re going to make me an icicle.”

  “For your own good.”

  “Shit! No, no, no, no, no!” Eren hands scrambled at Levi as he clung to him, trying to escape.

  Holding up Eren’s weight so he didn’t drop him, Levi guided Eren down. His back was bent at a painful angle as he attempted not to be pulled into the tub as well, yet he didn’t release Eren until his backside hit the bottom.

  Eren looked up at Levi, shivering and pouting, leveling Levi with a murderous glare as he threw the bar of soap.

  “You don’t like it, I know,” Levi said. “Give it a minute.”

  Levi wet another rag as Eren leaned back. He was watching Levi with a skeptical scowl on his face. Levi placed the cloth over Eren’s forehead, poured their usual evening bath oil into the water, and swirled it with his hands. Then he traced his thumbs over Eren’s cheeks, along the edges of his jaw and down his neck.

  Eren let out a long relieved breath and closed his eyes. The water was near freezing. Straight from the winter-chilled pipes with none from the boiler. Had Levi been able to pull himself away for long enough, he would have gathered snow from outside and added it as well.

  Sitting on the toilet, Levi set his head in his hands. From between his fingers, he watched Eren’s steam rising up through the water. Eren’s eyes were still closed. He was mumbling something about tacking horses, blue flowers, and strawberries.

  Levi saw a clearing in a field from so many lifetimes before. Eren always enjoyed it in mid-summer on lazy evenings. Lying in the cool grass under the trees until the stars came out.

  He shook the thought away and stood, the movement bringing the scent of Eren’s vomit and piss on his trousers back to his nose. He ignored it and went to the medicine chest, feeling a wave of cold when he saw his reflection. The reddened bandage around his head standing out stark against his pale skin, blood smeared on his cheek and shirt, the deepened bruises below his eyes.

  Scoffing, he opened the chest and found the thermometer wrapped in cloth. It was probably useless now. If Levi wasn’t attentive enough, the end would likely crack off, sending the mercury soaring across the bathroom. He ordered stiff fingers to unwrap it and began shaking the liquid inside down with quick flicks of his wrist. When he was satisfied, he held it up to the light checking it was all resting in the bulb.

  Eren was still only partly there. His head was lolling from side to side. He’d probably bite the instrument in half and cut his tongue with bits of glass, or poison himself with the mercury if Levi put it in his mouth. Kneeling at the side of the tub, Levi lifted Eren’s left arm and slid the thermometer in his armpit. “Stay still,” he said quietly, observing the fragile glass tube between his fingers. If the reading reached the end, he could remove it swiftly, rather than risk nasty shards of glass in the tub and contend with sneaky blobs of mercury.

  Watching the mercury climb, Levi bit his bottom lip. He counted off the numbers in his head as the reading slipped past each one. When it reached the end, Levi pulled it away and flicked it down as his hurtling heart picked up speed, nosediving to wherever it was headed.

  “Levi?” Eren asked, clutching at his wrist.

  “Hmm?” Levi didn’t know which Eren he was going to get. The more lucid version he knew, the one who sounded intoxicated, or someone else altogether.

  “Come in here with me.” He turned his head, his gaze focused, gaining coherence.

  “It’s too cold.”

  Eren sniffed. Blood was dripping down over his lip, droplets plunking in the water, spreading over the surface. He peered over the edge of the tub, taking in Levi squatting beside him. “Clean up. I’m fine right now.” Looking crestfallen for a moment, Eren closed his eyes and smiled. “I remember enough to know that. I’ll be all right.”

  Levi cleared his throat along with a pang of indecision. Perhaps the water was chilling some sense back into Eren’s head.

  “Go on, you’ve gotta be cold.” Eren opened eyes again. “You look like shit too.”

  Levi looked down at himself. He was covered in mud and Eren’s mess. He hadn’t even removed his boots. He stood and put the thermometer away, then wet another rag for Eren’s forehead, switching it with the other and wiped Eren’s nose. “How’s your migraine?”

  Eren laughed, squeezing his hands into fists under the water before flexing his fingers. “It hurts. Hurts more when I can’t make sense of things though.”

  “I have medicine.” Levi gave Eren a long look. He would be all right if only for a moment. “Be right back.” He went to the kitchen, ears perking as he sat in the kitchen and removed his boots. He flung them toward the door, then quickly grasped a spoon and returned to the bathroom. There was a minute trembling in his hand as he reopened the medicine chest. He commanded it to stop and grasped a small glass vial. Then he sat down on the toilet and unscrewed the cap, setting it aside and carefully pouring a dose into the spoon.

  Digging into his faltering strength, Levi carefully moved to the tub. Eren opened his mouth, exposing his healed chipped tooth as he took the spoonful of medicine between his lips.

  “Thank you,” said Eren with a sigh then rolled his eyes. “Damn it, Levi. Will you wash up? You don’t like being dirty!”

  “Later.”

  Eren cringed and rubbed at his nose. “For me then. Smelling my puke is making me gag.”

  “Fine.” Relenting, Levi unfastened his knife holster from his chest and placed it on the sink. There was another under the bathtub and one behind the toilet’s tank.

  He undressed, peeling away stinking layers of soggy pants and long underwear, his sweaty, destroyed button down, socks, and undershirt. He dropped them on the floor and kicked them out the bathroom door. He would clear them later when Eren was settled in bed.

  Eren watched with a scrutinizing frown as Levi wet a washrag with warm water in the sink, regarding him while he washed as if he were the one suffering. As if he were the one who needed to be looked after while he cleaned and bandaged his fingers then did the same for the wound on his head.

  It didn’t leave him truly clean, but when Levi was finished he changed into fresh, dry drawers and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. Eren was still too hot to get the fire going. So Levi sat like a sentinel on the chilly tile of the floor next to the tub.

  Though he was staring somewhere in the corner, Eren took Levi’s hand.

  Levi kept the other fastened around the handle of the knife in his lap.

  “It hurts to talk,” Eren said. He clenched his eyes shut as they overflowed. “I want to tell you what I see but-”

  “You don’t have to talk.” Levi clutched his knife tighter. “Just rest.”

  Eren kept his eyes closed after that mostly. Sometimes he twitched or moaned. Other times he was quiet, only to blurt out things Levi couldn’t unravel or he spoke in languages Levi no longer understood. During the silence, Levi concentrated on Eren’s breath, the plunk of water dripping from the faucet, or the patter of rain on the window. He held tight to Eren’s hand, applying gentle pressure when he gritted his teeth or thrashed. When Eren seemed to fall asleep and Levi could remain still no longer, he dragged out the wash basin and filled it. Then he scrubbed Eren’s blanket, started a small fire in the kitchen stove, hung it there to dry, and returned to his post next to the tub.

  It was during a period of calm when Eren had been in the bath for near two hours, that Levi found the day’s events firing the first shots at his well-constructed walls.

  The light glinting from the hilt of his blade caught his eye. Levi looked down, replaying Eckhard stabbing Eren. His own knuckles were white around the handle, holding it in a grip which was almost amateur. How his hand had looked the first time Kenny thrust a blade into it. Too tight. His fingers were stiff. Aching. He could feel the pain now. Settling into his muscles, tearing up his spine and running over his shoulders and down his arms like oozing mud before it took his hands in an unforgiving grip.

  “What did you do with Dahlia’s car?” Eren asked. His voice was raw and dry, but steam was no longer coming from his mouth.

  “Nothing.”

  “She’ll wonder where it is.” Eren let go of Levi’s hand and sat up with a splash, running his hands over his face then through his hair. He touched his fingertips to his cheeks, tracing the furrows there.

  “We’ll take care of it later,” Levi said. “She can see it from the street.”

  “What about work?” Eren asked, examining a lock of his sticky hair.

  “You’re in no condition.” Levi sat up on his knees, ignoring the tile of the floor biting into them. He leaned across the tub and snatched the pitcher. “Do you want me to wash it?”

  Eren nodded. “Please,” he said. “Then I’d like to get out.”

  Touching Eren’s forehead, Levi said, “You’re still hot.”

  “And wrinkled,” Eren added, scanning the length of himself. “I think my balls are permanently shrunk too, and I’m fucking hungry.”

  “Your balls will be fine.” Levi tipped the pitcher into the water. “What do you want?”

  “Meat.”

  “That’s heavy.” Levi poured the water over Eren’s head.

  “Don't care.” Eren wiped his eyes. “It’s what I need.”

  “Fats would do you good too.” Levi unscrewed the jar of shampoo. “We have sausage. Nuts too.”

  Rubbing his stomach Eren groaned. “So good. I’m starving.”

  Scrubbing Eren’s hair, Levi looked down where Eren was still clutching his abdomen. He wondered if he was fully healed inside.

  “How’s your stomach?” Levi asked. “Can you tell?”

  “Good enough to eat,” Eren said. “I can breathe better too.”

  “You’re not breathing steam anymore.”

  “It’s stopped coming out my ass too.” Eren laughed, though it sounded more perplexed and horrified than amused. “That was weird...a little embarrassing.”

  Levi smirked. “I’ve seen your asshole steam before.”

  “Oh…” Eren planted his face in his hands. “That’s what I have to look forward to.”

  Clicking his tongue, Levi spread the rich lather through Eren’s hair. “Not always. When you’d get too riled up. Wanted it rough.”

  Groaning, Eren said, “I’m a fucking titan again and this is what I’m worried about.” He wet his lips, whimpering when Levi resumed scrubbing his scalp. “That makes my head stop hurting. Not for long, but it helps. Don't stop.”

  “I thought you wanted to get out.”

  “I do,” Eren said. “Please, just a bit longer.”

  Levi complied.

 

*****

 

  Eren threw up again as soon as he was out of the tub. Blood, bile, and the water Levi had forced him to drink. He’d only been half coherent when Levi had walked him to the bedroom and sat him at the edge of the bed while he argued with someone in his own head. Once Levi had gotten him into a thin pair of drawers, Eren seemed to regain some sense of himself.

  He looked down at Levi crouching before him on the floor, buttoning up his pants, and rested his hand on top of his head. Tangling his fingers into the strands of Levi’s hair.  

  “There,” Levi said, fastening the last button. He glanced back up. Eren was pale, the marks on his face still a furious red below eyes which crinkled. Levi wasn’t sure if it was a fleeting moment of happiness, pain, or another memory. “You should lie down.”

  “I’m cold,” Eren whimpered. “Can I have my blanket?”

  “Yes, but it’s not dry.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You should get in bed.” Levi rose to fetch it from the line in the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I don’t want to get in bed.” Eren grasped his hand.

  Levi frowned down at where their fingers were entwined.

  “I don’t want to be alone. I want to look at the fire.”

  “There isn’t one in the fireplace,” Levi said. “You were too hot. You still are.”

  “Your fingers are cold.” Eren traced his fingertips over Levi’s knuckles. “Please. I want to watch the fire. Just a small one. I don’t feel as hot anymore.”

  “Wait here,” Levi said. Frowning as he squeezed Eren’s hand and set it on his knee. “Pigheaded,” he whispered with a scowl.

  Fetching the thermometer, Levi weighed his options. Eren would pout, Eren would whine, or perhaps he wouldn’t listen if he insisted he lay down. Under regular circumstances, he could force Eren into bed, but with the memories and possible past titan shifter personalities a jumble in Eren’s brain, Levi wasn’t certain he would.

  “Lift up your arm,” Levi said as he checked the mercury was still down.

  Eren was compliant, and Levi watched as the mercury rose. He pushed aside a propitious kick in his chest when it moved slower than it had earlier and narrowed his eyes, praying to some non-existent deity it wouldn’t top out again. Even if it were still high—if he could get confirmation of even the slightest improvement—it would provide a piece of hope, small as it might be.

  It stopped two degrees short of the highest reading. Still high enough any regular human being would be delirious, but it was better than before.

  “You sit in the living room. We’ll eat,” Levi said, staring at the marks which weren’t fading from Eren’s face. “Then we’re getting in bed. You need sleep.”

  “All right,” Eren agreed, standing on wobbly legs.

  Eren jerked from side to side, nails digging into Levi’s skin as he moved them to the bedroom entrance. Levi bit the inside of his cheek when Eren stumbled, nearly colliding with the molding around the frame. Levi bemoaned the slightly raised wood of the threshold, throwing it a venomous glare as he rerouted Eren through the doorway. “Can you see all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Eren said swaying again as he took baby-steps toward the rug. “Dizzy, when I’m standing is all.”

  “Why I wanted you in bed.”

  “I’ll be fine when I sit down.”

  When they were before the hearth, Levi helped Eren to the floor, then left to fetch his damp blanket. He wrapped it around his back and set it over Eren’s crossed legs.

  Levi only built up a small fire while Eren hummed to himself. A tune Levi remembered the same way he recalled dreams after he rose from bed and was making tea. Foggy and fleeting, but tugging at a memory buried too deep for him to find. He rolled his lips between his teeth as he poked at the logs, while his chest constricted. When he turned around, Eren was rocking from side to side with his eyes closed, tears slipping down his cheeks again.

  Grasping a small wooden box from the mantel, Levi knelt in front of Eren. He leaned in and nuzzled his lips against Eren’s jaw while his fingers found the key on the back of the box and wound it. Then Levi sat back on his heels and wiped at Eren’s face as woeful eyes met his own. “Will this help?” Levi asked, holding out the box.

  Eren nodded and opened the lid. He looked down at the gears whirring as the golden, metallic notes of the music box played. Biting his lip, he sniffed hard, sucking up his dolor. “It does,” Eren whispered.

  “Shall I sit with you?”

  Setting the music box on the floor between them, Eren swallowed a sob, mustering a smile. “After we eat,” he said, brushing the back of his hand over Levi’s wrist. “I’ll be okay...I can see you from the kitchen.”

  Despite the risk of breaking himself or Eren apart, Levi gave one short nod. Then he coiled his arms around Eren and kissed the top of his head. Eren slumped, pressing his face into Levi’s chest, holding tight, though he didn’t shatter or cling.

  Levi could feel Eren holding back the tide breaking against him. It would all come down once they were in bed. Perhaps Levi’s ramparts would finally collapse too. His energy was waning, too little left to fortify the bulwark surrounding his secretly fragile heart.

  Eren was the first to pull away. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to raid the pantry,” he started, “fucked up head or not.”

  Levi tried to smirk past the heaviness. “Try it and I’ll put you in that bed myself.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  Rising, Levi felt the bite of apprehension nipping at his skin. Hot-cold little pricks like needles doused in fire and ice. “Can you talk?” Levi asked. “Does it still hurt?

  “Sometimes,” Eren said. “But I’ll try.”

  Eren gave Levi a look which was a bit too knowing. It forced his muscles to stiffen and his mind to push aside the excruciatingly wicked thoughts he’d been suppressing. Distilled his purpose to one single task.

  _Feed Eren._

 

*****

  

  The food seemed to perk Eren up, and Levi had to tell him more than once to take smaller bites. There was a drowsiness in the motion of his hands, how his fork scraped exhaustedly against his plate. Like the utensil was dense and weighty and made of lead.

  He slowed down once he was down to one sausage. He was cutting it into even little slices. Contemplating the morsels of ground pork as if they held all the world’s secrets or all its answers. A wrinkle of annoyance sketched into his forehead when a piece slipped from under his knife, sliding to a stop before rolling over the edge of the china. Eren frowned at it like he was trying to solve a puzzle or read an unpronounceable word.

   "Okay?" Levi asked, spearing a mouthful of seasoned meat onto his fork.

  Eren scratched his head. "Yeah," he said, abandoning his silverware to the plate. Instead, he grabbed for a handful of nuts. "It's just not easy to concentrate. I have to fight not to be pulled away sometimes. Having something to do with my hands helps.”

  "Mm." It probably hurt. It was probably uncomfortable. Levi recalled the headaches when he was a teen. The confusion. Questioning his own sanity. Sometimes he thought he was somewhere else. In a different life, only to have his eyes clear as reality poked him and came back into focus. They were like waking dreams.

  He swallowed and blew a sharp breath out his nose. Though painful and oftentimes difficult to follow, Levi's memories returned gradually over the course of years. They never came all at once.

  “I really do remember, you know.” Eren picked the corner of a nail and looked at Levi. “I thought Eckhard was going to kill you. Then it was all black and angry. After that, I was looking up at your face and I knew everything.”

  Levi wet his lips and took a breath. He didn’t need to, but he scrutinized Eren. Examining his eyes again, the unwavering fury that burned in them. His stalwart expression. Too much how he looked during that time in the Catalyst when he fought with everyone and they were separated yet again. Dropping his head for a moment, Levi closed his eyes before peering back at Eren through his fringe. “From when you were a titan, you mean?”

  Eren shook his head. His nose was beginning to bleed, but he only wiped it with the back of his wrist instead of the napkin in his lap. “I remember everything. All of it. Before then, after then. Everything you do.” He winced and grit his teeth. Like he was fending off a momentary pain before he released a deep breath, tapped his forehead, and blinked at Levi. “It’s like watching ages all at once. Centuries. I can’t make sense of it yet. I can only grab a memory...a place in time and look for a minute before I lose it again, but they’re there. I can feel them settling. Finding where to land inside my head.”

  “They’re organizing.” Levi grasped his napkin when Eren moved to wipe his nose with his hand again. He held it toward him. “Is it causing you worse pain?”

  Accepting the offer, Eren pressed it against his nose, then squeezed his eyelids shut and laughed. “My head feels like someone took an ax to it...but...maybe it’s getting better.”

  Feeling his heart still sailing to the depths of wherever it was heading, Levi took Eren’s hand in his own. “I have tea that might help. And you can have more of the tincture.”

  Eren took a sip of water then looked at the ceiling. “Will you make it hot this time?”

  Levi sighed.

  “At least warm?” Eren traced a fingertip along the rim of his teacup, shoulders slumping. “I don’t like it cold. It tastes wrong.” Eren nudged his head toward Levi in an offer.

  Levi felt his cheeks and forehead. Cooler. Better than before Eren had eaten. Truth be told, Levi wasn’t enjoying the cold tea himself. In the heat of the summer, it was refreshing. But this wasn’t the proper tea for a cold brew, nor did it do much for Levi’s freezing body except make him shudder. “A small pot,” Levi said. “Are you finished?”

  Eren looked down at his plate and took up his fork, stabbing five pieces of sausage onto it. He shoved the entire collection into his mouth, and answered around it, “Now I am,” then added, “Please leave the nuts.”

  “Yeah.” Levi nodded and collected their dirtied dishes. He could see Eren over his shoulder from the kitchen. He was staring into the fire and stirring the walnuts in the bowl with his index finger. Precise, slow circles like he was looking for the correct nut before he snatched one up and popped it in his mouth. He bit down on it with a smirk; vengeful, aggressive, and triumphant like he had devoured Marleyan soldiers.

  Levi shook away the image, filled the kettle, and set it to boil. He poked the fire in the stove and added a small log. Then he reached up for the tin of medicinal herbs. Good for headaches. With ginger that would help any nausea which might creep up. Whether Eren enjoyed it cold or not, it had centered his mind a bit, Levi thought as he spooned the leaves into the sieve, added a dose of medicine to Eren’s cup, then leaned against the counter.

  He narrowed his eyes, yet remained quite. Eren was whispering to himself. Lining up the walnuts from the bowl on the rug. He was rearranging them, setting them from biggest to smallest. Levi cleared his throat, hoping Eren wasn’t going to eat them after they had been on the floor.

  Eren glanced at Levi and smiled. “Look, I’m playing with my nuts!”

  Rubbing his forehead, Levi’s cheek creased alongside gritted teeth. Eren resembled a youngster playing with toys on a carpet. Like a toddler laying out building blocks as a rudimentary blueprint of a tower grew in their childish mind. “I see,” he whispered. “Don’t eat them now.”

  “I’m not,” Eren said. “They’re like little soldiers.” He held one up between his thumb and forefinger for Levi to see. His expression morphed from somber to excited elation. “This one is so small. It’s Historia.”

  Levi’s hands tensed. He wrapped his fingers around thumbs tucked tight to his palms. “Yes, she was small.”

  “And this one is Connie. He isn’t much bigger.” Eren looked down, setting ‘Connie’ aside with gentle thoughtfulness. Reverent, respectful, and loving. As if Eren could see their faces where Levi only saw a snack.

  “If you were a nut, you would be this one, Levi!” Eren said. Then he pointed at it. “It even has your little nose.”

  Levi’s lips curled, pressing upward. But it was bittersweet; darkly amusing, yet tinged with loss and sadness and something Eren was failing to grasp. He was realigning his ‘soldiers.’ His ‘friends.’ Whispering to them. He heard Eren call ‘Jean’ an asshole as he switched out a stubby, fat nut with a longer, thinner one. It was followed by a smirk like he didn’t truly mean it before he wound the music box to play for them, then stared at the fire.

  Sinking into the quiet and the melody of tingy notes, Levi kept watch. He stiffened when the kettle whistled and caught him off guard, scowling at the steam puffing impatiently from the spout. Not the same as Eren’s steam which rose lazily in smoky streams, ebbing and curling around vapor tendrils of itself, but angry and insistent, pestering him like a gossiping crone poking at his back.

  Eren looked catatonic, and Levi made as much noise as he could while returning to his side in socked feet. Soft thumps on varnished wood, a squeak when he purposely stepped on the loose board. He set the tray down on the floor, mindful not to disturb Eren’s walnut formation.

  “Oh, it’s ready,” Eren said when Levi brushed his elbow. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, I was listening.”

  “To what?” He pressed Eren’s teacup toward his skittery fingers.

  “To stories. To memories.” Eren wrapped his hands around his cup, hanging his head above sweet, fragrant steam and inhaled with closed eyes.

  Levi swallowed his panic along with his first sip. He wanted Eren back. His Eren. He didn’t care which one. The Eren who woke up in bed snuggled beside him that morning. The one who never stopped grinning in their last life. Even his tortured Eren from The Catalyst. He knew how to take care of him. Perhaps the memories were too great and Eren was losing his mind. Levi had never witnessed confusion or instability so great. It felt as if it was breaking Eren into countless shards of himself. A fragmentation so thorough, Levi wasn’t certain he would be able to patch Eren back together.

  He listened to Eren’s ramblings as they sipped tea. He watched Eren’s slender fingers shakily wind the music box each time the tempo dropped. The sound was drawn out, each note falling after it caught itself like the toe of a shoe on broken cobblestones.

  Levi’s heart went deeper and deeper and deeper.

  And time finally caught up.

  Then it surged forward, stopped, and ramped up in greedy, teasing, little, tiptoed steps as Eren talked of events from one thousand years ago. Then two hundred, then gibberish, and finally in a language, Levi didn’t think ever existed. All the while he sipped his tea and smiled at Levi with kind, loving, ordinary eyes. As if speaking in tongues and having conversations with walnuts was the sanest of activities.

  Levi heard various names which had once been his throughout. Peppered in and sprinkled around like the salt in all of his wounds or the sugar crumbs Eren had dropped everywhere the night before.

   _‘I’d buy you all the sugarplums…”_ Levi thought, the sentiment dying in his mind the same as the words on his lips.

  “I love you,” Eren said, grappling for Levi’s hand and squeezing it as he sat transfixed by the fire.

  Levi held tight in return, watching the clock on the wall in his desolation as Eren spiraled farther away, retreating into his own mind with open eyes and a scowl on his face.

  Thirty-four minutes of wordless silence had passed when Eren growled. Lowly and visceral and furious.

  Moving closer, Levi set his cup down then took Eren’s from his hand. His fingers were clutching around it so hard Levi was stunned it hadn’t shattered.

  “Eren?”

  “It’s all your fault!” Eren yelled, seething, ripping his hand away from Levi’s.

  “Eren?” Levi asked waving his hand in front of his face. He didn’t blink, only stared straight ahead at a memory Levi couldn’t see.

  “If you hadn’t...we would have been happy.” Eren’s fists were clenched tighter, the scars on his cheeks which had finally began healing deepened and grew back down to his jaw. He was practically snarling. Lips curling back, eyes widening. He looked demented.

  “Eren!”

  He hissed at Levi, smacking his hands away when he reached for him. “Shut up, I’m talking to Ymir.”

  “Ymir?” Levi asked and scoffed. “She left like a coward.”

  “Not that Ymir,” Eren hissed. He made an expression as if he were listening. His head cocking to the side as his brows collided together in what Levi could only take as an expression of anger and fury. He stood up on his knees, staring into the hearth.

  “They murdered Levi, you bitch! They made me watch!” He slammed his fist against the center of his chest. “They tore us apart and broke me to pieces. It’s because of you!”

  Levi’s eyes widened when Eren tore at his hair and screamed. Then his eyes rolled back, and Levi caught him as he collapsed.

  

   *****  

 

  Levi didn’t open the bookshop when morning came.

  He had kept vigil without sleep since Eren erupted and passed out. His head cradled in his lap. He pressed a cool, damp cloth to his forehead and rocked him when he began to convulse or cry out in his sleep.

  “I want to look at the fire,” Eren had repeated during moments of wakefulness, not sparing a glance away from the flames. “It helps me focus. I don’t get as confused.”

  Sometimes Eren watched silently for long stretches, other times he talked, laughed, yelled, or cried. There were periods when he ebbed away from Levi’s reach and fell into unconsciousness again, and Levi petted Eren’s head and hummed to him.

  The scars were still over his wrists, ankles, and shoulders. Though they were most prominent on his cheeks and neck. Levi leaned forward and kissed Eren’s temple. His lips lingered for a second. Eren was cooler still.

  Ensconced in the quiet of the apartment, he gazed out the window at flat, grey-blue, unforgiving, merciless clouds and blinked. He was breathing too quickly. There wasn’t enough air in his lungs. He cursed the sun for rising and the night for slipping away from him, taking his strength along with it.

  Levi’s joints cracked painfully when he tugged Eren’s head closer. A jolt of fire shot up his neck and spine as he straightened out and resumed sweeping his fingers absently through Eren’s hair. Then he stared into to fire. Searching, looking for anything that would keep everything from cascading and jerking him down into the looming mire. His shoulders were so heavy, his mind twisting with a shocking ache that mirrored the one in his chest.

  He looked down at Eren, wondering what was going on behind his closed eyelids. How he could save him. Contemplating if the Eren he knew was really still there.

  His heart began to pound as he pondered how many of Eren’s thirteen years were left. His mouth went dry. His body shook as he choked on a sob.

  And then his eyes began to burn as hot salt flooded them. He held his breath and bit his lip, chin quivering as he fought uselessly against the fusillade.

  Levi was weak and lost. He might be dead if Eren hadn’t created the wall of crystal to save him. A tear fell on Eren’s arm and Levi ground his teeth, cursing his hubris.

  He wasn’t the Captain anymore. His body didn’t obey his commands as it had before. His arrogance couldn’t save Eren.

  Eren sighed in his sleep and found Levi’s hand, twining their fingers together.

  Through the despair, a smile forced itself to Levi’s lips. He closed his eyes, blinking his anguish away and took a breath, tossing broken bricks at his rapidly disintegrating parapets. Leaning down, he huffed Eren in until all he could smell was him.

  Eren nuzzled Levi’s nose where it was planted against his cheek and made a quiet sound in his throat.

  “Levi?” Eren whispered, turning his head to look up at him. He stretched his arm and skimmed his thumb under Levi’s right eye, over his cheekbone, his own eyes softening around a somnolent gaze. “I’m okay.”

  Wiping under his other eye with the back of his hand, Levi nodded. “Your head?” he asked.

  Eren turned again, pressing his forehead to Levi’s stomach. He wrapped an arm around Levi’s back, gripping his side. “It still hurts. Not nearly as bad though.” Then he was quiet for a moment, swallowing slowly and trying to wet his dry lips. “What do I look like?”

  Frowning, Levi asked in a shaky voice, “What do you mean?”

  “My face.” Eren stared up at him, his eyes a stormy green. “I look like a monster again.”

  “You never looked like a monster.”

  “Hmm,” Eren hummed, hiding his face against Levi. He mumbled into Levi’s skin, “How can you like me like this?”

  “Ridiculous.” Levi grasped Eren’s face between his hands, forcing him to look up at him. “If you have all your memories, you should know how.”

  Eren stared. His mouth opened and closed and opened again. Then his eyes went glassy and something sharp impaled Levi’s heart.

  “I do...” Eren said quietly, averting his eyes to a button on Levi’s drawers, “but my face.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it.” Levi brushed the backs on his fingers over the markings. “I’ve never minded them.”

  “Yeah?” Eren asked. He held Levi tighter, the left side of his mouth raised a hair.

  There was an apprehensive drop in Levi’s stomach at the prospect of poking at Eren’s memories. Eren’s mind still seemed to be in freefall alongside Levi’s heart. “Think back if you can.”

  “I can search for things.”

  “When you looked like this before.”

  Eren closed his eyes. He was silent for what felt like long minutes to Levi as he listened once more to the tick of the clock. Eren grimaced, and then his expression want blankly placid before he let out a little “Oh.” He traced his thumb up Levi’s spine and back down, then he smiled. It wasn’t a grin, only a soft pull on his mouth as he opened his eyes. “You didn’t look at me any different.” He touched Levi’s jaw. “It’s like they weren’t there. You still thought I was beautiful.” His lips pressed tight together as tears overflowed.

  Levi nodded. “I thought you were lost for a moment,” he said, leaning over to press their mouths together. “But no, you’re still an idiot.”

  “Always,” Eren said, tracing his fingertips above the waist of Levi’s drawers.

  Levi shivered, goosebumps rising over his flesh. “And a brat.”

  “That too.” He nuzzled his nose against Levi’s cock. “Touch me.”

  Sighing and gulping down the desire to acquiesce, Levi said, “You’re unwell.” He brushed stray hairs from Eren’s face and steeled himself against Eren’s warm hand moving up his thigh.

  “My head hurts,” Eren said. “It will make it stop hurting. Please.”

  “You still have a fever.”

  “Levi…” Eren nudged his cheek there again. “Please. I need it.”

  Eren’s plea was disarming. Desperate and sorrowful and lonely. His eyes were questioning. The storm behind them was almost insecure, though not exactly. Levi couldn't think of the proper word for it.

  In the past, during The Catalyst, it had happened liked this. When Eren was in a similar state. Levi had been inside him while looking into a face still etched by scars. When Eren had regained some strength. At times when he was still feverish. Though, Levi had been less careful then. Protective always, yet Eren recovered faster and they both knew his limits better then.

  Eren's knuckles brushed over Levi’s side and hip, questioning and tenderly persistent. There was a warm tingle within Levi that wanted it too. He knew that although those times having Eren wrapped around him was mostly for Eren's comfort, it was for his own as well. To know Eren was alive, that they both were, to feel Eren moving beneath him, responsive and real. To feel Eren's pulse speeding up against his fingertips when he traced them down the furrows still left from shifting on his neck. It was those times when Eren tasted more intense. When Levi could fill himself with his scent. More than only his lungs and nose. Breathe Eren in until his entire body was full. When Eren’s voice was like music from the finest instruments. Perfectly tuned. When Eren ignited his senses in a manner that made every other moment feel as if they were dulled.

  He looked down at his lap. Eren's hand was high on the inside of his thigh, creeping toward his groin. His fingertips applying light pressure. He was still nudging his face against his crotch, though less insistently.

  Levi ran his fingers through Eren's hair as his cock stiffened against his will. He would be gentle. They could always stop if Eren was too unwell. Perhaps Eren truly did need it. Maybe they both did. Both their minds were shattered. Eren's mostly. Maybe it would help Eren make sense of things. To only feel for a little while.

  Eren was looking up at him. Burdened and suffering. Levi brushed his thumbs under his eyes and across his cheeks, mapping the ridges carved into them. And then he kissed them.

  Smiling with a quivering chin, Eren's eyes filled again, glassy tears gathering until he blinked. Levi leaned down, brushing his lips across the scars again and kissing the tears away. Eren was just as beautiful with them.

  He heard Eren hiccup. Holding back, breaking beneath Levi's acceptance.

  Levi mouthed the words he could never say against Eren’s forehead.

  Eren gripped him tighter and gasped. Then Levi trailed the tip of his nose across Eren’s face and nibbled his jaw before he found Eren’s lips.

  Eren felt strong again as he tugged him closer, making choked sounds between cries and moans as he tried to pull Levi on top of him.

  “Not on the floor,” Levi said. The order was followed by a flick of his tongue against Eren’s. He skimmed the backs of his fingers down Eren’s stomach. Through the fine hairs below his navel, groaning when Eren lifted his hips.

  “Levi, Levi, Levi,” Eren said, wrapping himself around him as he attempted to rid Levi of his clothes.

  They were on the rug. The bristles scratching against Levi’s forearm as he settled over Eren and thumbed the buttons on his drawers open while tenderly licking into his mouth. Then he wrapped a hand around him and Eren whimpered, making a sound between relief and begging.

  It was drawn out, streaming by Levi’s ear as he stroked Eren’s cock.

  Rising up, Eren cried, “Closer, please closer.” He unfastened the last button on Levi’s drawers, hooking his fingers beneath the waist and pressed them down past the curve of his ass. One hand found Levi’s, lacing their fingers together, entwining them, joining them, connecting them like a whispered oath of something deeper. The other trailed down the cleft of Levi’s ass, teasing at the delicate skin hidden there.

  Levi thrust forward, only biting back half the whimper erupting in his throat. He’d unravel Eren, pull him like a thread and knit him back together. Even with his breaking heart, Levi would heal Eren. With his hands, and his mouth, and his skin, and his words. He would tie them together so tightly nothing could ever pull them apart again.

  “Make more sounds for me,” Eren breathed, sobbing when Levi squeezed him, “More…”

  Levi silenced him with his mouth, nipping at his lips, chasing his tongue, taking Eren’s breath and giving it back. Closer, closer, and closer until closer was still too far away.  

  “Have to move…” Levi said as he tilted his head back.

  His lips parted, peering at Eren’s eyes through steam rising from below his cheeks. Watching in silence at the scars receding from his jaw. Healing before his eyes.

  Eren only smiled at him, clear and fond-eyed with pupils dark and wide and beseeching. “I can make it to the bed, just-” he said, cut off when there was banging on the door below.

  It felt as if their hearts collided into each others’ as Levi pushed himself up on his free arm. His head swiveled while his ears perked, hoping it wasn’t someone calling on them.

  Then it came again.

  “Nooooo,” Eren whined.

  Levi mirrored the sound. Small and breathy and low. “It’s probably Dahlia,” he hissed. “I’ll get rid of her.”

  He stood up, fastening his drawers as he regarded Eren. His cheeks were flushed, his bottom lip swollen where Levi had bitten it. He was half wrapped in his blanket and pouting.

  Eren eyed Levi’s cock from his place on the floor. “She’s going to see that.”

  Levi tore the bandage off his head. “I don’t give a shit.”

  “I’ll come too,” Eren said, looking worried.

  “No, stay here.”

  Levi didn’t give a shit about shoes either as he stomped across the flat to the window. It was Dahlia. She was standing among the mix of snowflakes and rain in the winter breeze with crossed arms. He went and fished her key out of his coat, then went to the door, wrenched it open, and clomped down the stairs.

  The chest was still sitting before the basement stairs. Its lid cracked open a good five or six inches with Eren’s coat hanging out of it. Levi reached up, took a canvas drop cloth down from the shelf, and covered it. He repressed a groan and did his best to put on a neutral face before he unbarred the door and opened it.

  Dahlia looked him up and down, eyebrows knitting together in a ponderous frown before she smiled and stepped inside.

  “My apologies about your car,” Levi said as he shut the door.

  “I was worried.” She rubbed her hands together. “The shop is closed and Eren didn’t come to work. He was excited to learn apple pie today.”

  “He’s not feeling well.” Levi shifted between Dahlia and the bottom of the staircase. He propped himself against the door frame and crossed his arms. He didn’t react when she averted her eyes above his shoulders and a faint a hint of rose came to her cheeks. “I’m looking after him.”

  “A cold?” she asked. She was tapping her bottom lip, her eyes locked on Levi’s. Watching him with a penetrating glare he hadn’t seen from her before. He shivered.

  “A slight fever and a headache.”

  “That all?” she asked, voice rising. “I could send for Emelia to look him over. We wouldn’t want it getting worse.”

  Levi shook his head. He could hear the boards creaking from Eren’s movements above, drawing closer to the door. He held Dahlia’s key out to her. “Sorry again. Or if you prefer we can drive it by later. I’ll buy fuel when Eren’s recovered if you’re agreeable.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” she scolded, rocking on the heels of her heavy black shoes, examining him.

  Levi felt more exposed than he was standing before her still half-hard in his drawers. “Later then?” he asked Dahlia as he heard the door at the top of the stairs squeak on its hinges. He turned his head and called up to Eren, “I’ll be up in a moment.”

  Eren didn’t answer, but Levi could hear his steps on the stairs. Dahlia was standing on tiptoes, stretching her neck. Levi pursed his lips, hiding his gritting teeth as he turned around. Eren’s scars were still on his face and neck. He had draped a blanket around himself, though it did little other than hide his torso and what was likely left of his erection.

  “Eren,” he whispered, tight-lipped, turning to look up at him towering over him from the bottom step.

  “Eren?” Dahlia said, holding out her hand.

  Levi turned in her direction. If she was shocked by the markings, she did nothing to show it.

  “I’m okay,” Eren said, coming to stand next to Levi. “Sorry, I didn’t show up.” He scratched the back of his neck and wrapped his arms around himself.

  Dahlia’s lips parted for a moment before her brow drew down and her eyelids dropped. She held them shut as she pulled in a deep breath. When she opened them again, there was fierceness behind them.

  She reached her hand toward Eren’s cheek. Touching her fingertips lightly to the scars on his skin. “So it’s already happened.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is much appreciated.


	19. Chapter 19

  The bomb ticking within Levi for the last twelve hours sped pace while time stood nearly still. His heart pumped icy realization under his skin as he regarded Dahlia’s concerned expression.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” he asked through a tensed jaw.

  Dahlia withdrew her hand from Eren’s cheek, her eyes flicking to Levi, sorrowful yet strong below a solicitous frown. “He’s shifted,” said Dahlia. “Was this the first time?”

  Fury whipped through Levi like the flames of a backdraft. Consuming. Engulfing. Flaring. He was too small to contain it. He snarled, clenching his fists where they hung at his sides. “You knew?” he said through teeth clamped so tight they felt as if they would shatter.

  Dahlia bowed her head for a moment, then looked between Eren and Levi. “We suspected.”

  “We?” Eren asked.

  “The organization.” She nodded and lowered her voice to a hush. “We shouldn’t speak of it here. You two need to come to the bakery with me.”

  “The bakery!” Levi yelled. Locking eyes with Dahlia, he began pacing between her and Eren. Four steps to the right, four steps to the left, two to the right, coming to stand before her, leaving scarcely any room between them. She was taller than him, but he refused to tip his head up.

  “Levi,” Eren said, his fingers draping over Levi’s shoulder.

  “‘Organization,’” Levi said dangerously, dropping his voice. “What fucking organization?”

  “It’s best we go quickly,” Dahlia said, her eyes hardening. “I will explain there. Spies could be anywhere. It’s safer.”

  “We’re not going anywhere!”

  Dahlia pursed her lips and moved closer into Levi’s space. “Get your head out of your ass, Levi.”

  “Bitch!” The bomb went off, and Levi’s fist careened through the wall. Plaster and splinters of wood exploded, showering the back room like the snowflakes outside.

  Dahlia didn’t flinch as Levi stood heaving. He could feel blood dripping down his fingers, heard it pattering on the floor. Eren hugged him from behind, planting his lips against the top of his head. If they were alone, Levi would have collapsed.

  “Are you done?” Dahlia crossed her arms, raising a thin grey brow. “We don't have time for shenanigans if you want to save Eren.”

  Finally, Levi’s heart smashed into the bottom of the pit. He could see the pulpy bleeding mess it was. Since the night before, it had tumbled and tumbled far from his reach, but he still felt it nestled in his chest as it was crushed. If Dahlia weren’t elderly, he’d have smashed her into the wall and yelled in her face. Hissing and furious, with spittle flying from his lips.

  Eren murmured something from above, reeling him back from drowning in the raging, hoary-crimson torrent about to devour him.

  “Levi?” Eren said.

  He heard his name again, and again, and again until Eren turned him around and pressed his face to his chest. Fingers were scratching into his hair, and a hand was pushing firm and insistent against the small of his back.

  “Levi, I think we should go.” Eren’s fingers gentled on Levi’s neck, his thumb mapping the vertebrae, painting circles around each pronounced bone.

  “She lied to us…” Levi dug his fingers into Eren’s back where they were pressed. He was bleeding all over him, but he couldn’t let go. If he did, he was going to tear down the entire wall he’d already made a hole in.

  “I forgave you for not telling me right away,” Eren whispered, reaching behind him and squeezing Levi’s uninjured hand. He sounded too fucking reasonable. “Maybe this organization had their reasons too.”

  Suppressing a growl, Levi took one last breath of Eren’s skin. Holding it, he allowed it to infuse him before he turned around and crossed his arms again. Then he stared Dahlia down. If they were doing this, they were doing it his way. “We’ll go…” Levi scanned himself. “After we’re dressed. But any bullshit from your _organization_ and I’ll burn it to the fucking ground.”

  Dahlia toyed with the scarf around her neck. “I understand the mistrust,” she said, and the fierce expression Levi saw earlier returned to her more intensely than before. “But we have both of your best interests at heart. Your happiness.”

  “If that’s true, you should have said something earlier,” Levi said.

  Eren sighed. “Why didn’t you, Dahlia?”

  Her hazel eyes closed, brows slipping from their determined arch to a regretful and forlorn frown. “There’s much to explain, but we didn’t know for certain. If it wasn’t this time, we didn’t want to disturb your peace.” She reached her hand toward them, pulling it away when Levi glared. “Please though, we need to move. I don’t know if we’re safe here right now.”

  “We might not be,” Eren said, “and I don’t know if I can control shifting.”

  Levi hadn’t thought of that. That Eren didn’t remember how or was out of practice using his titan. He felt a clawing, cold shard of fear in his gut as he replayed Eren unconscious in bed after the museum. How he’d almost bitten his hand. “Keep your hand out of your mouth.”

  Eren nodded.

  “Eren,” Dahlia called as he and Levi turned to go upstairs. “Do you have something with a hood? To hide the marks.”

  “I have a cloak with one,” Levi offered, ignoring their uniforms in the trunk.

  “It would be best,” Dahlia said. “There’s a lot of shoppers on the streets, and you know how the folks in this town can be.”

  “Yes.” Levi rolled his eyes. “You’re one of them.”

 

*****

 

  Levi didn’t trust Dahlia downstairs with the trunk only hidden by a tarp. She accepted his invitation into the flat without argument, sitting on the edge of the sofa while they dressed in the bedroom and Levi wrapped his hand.

  She left the car as well when they departed, waving a dismissive hand as they passed it, claiming it was too much of a pain to start.

  When they crossed the street, Dahlia diverted them to the alley and took them in through the back.

  “You have them?” Margerie asked from the kitchen, brushing her hands together as Levi peered over Dahlia’s shoulder.

  “Yes.” Dahlia unlocked the door to the basement. “Get the word out and hold the fort down up here.”

  “Word about what?” Levi asked as Dahlia put her hand on his back and tried to usher them through the door. He shrugged and pushed her arm away.

  “To the organization,” she whispered. “Please get downstairs.”

  Levi felt for the knife in his pocket. Dahlia hadn’t said anything about it, only offered an amused smirk when Levi had strapped on a few extra in front of her. Of course, there were the ones she didn’t know about too. He was carrying six, and Eren four at Levi’s insistence. The last, Levi had made Eren put in his boot after he’d fastened his own knife holster around his chest in the middle of their living room.

  Dahlia had made no objections, only mumbled something about “Boys and their knives,” as they left the flat.

  Levi kept himself beside Eren as they descended the creaky, poorly lit staircase. Dahlia was behind them. It didn’t smell musty or mildewed the way Levi’s own cellar did. Despite all his efforts, he’d never been able to keep the water out. It seeped in from the south-western corner, creating a little puddle that fought with him each time he tried to mop it up.

  When they turned on the landing, Levi could see there were already lamps lit below. There was a second door at the bottom of the staircase propped open with a rock the size of a head.

  Eren grasped Levi’s hand and let out a gasp. “This reminds me of...”

  “I know,” Levi said. The door looked almost identical to the one he had kicked to splinters in Eren’s basement in Shiganshina.

  Dahlia pushed around them when they made it to the stone floor, and they both halted their steps. The walls were covered in bookcases stuffed with tomes and loose parchments. Flames from the traditional oil lamps hung around the room danced across the wooden shelves. There was a flag on the wall bearing the wings of freedom, and cloaks and jackets on hooks adorned with the same emblem. Levi shook his head. It wasn’t odd, though nationalists and those of his countrymen who were trapped in the past never failed to both amuse and disgust him.

  Dahlia motioned them forward with a flick of a knobby hand. “Boys, let me introduce you.”

  Five other people were sitting around a heavy wooden table. Their heads turned in unison, jaws dropped, gasps caught in throats.

  And then a short, strawberry-blond man who looked to be in his early twenties, wearing an odd configuration of 3DMG, stood up, made a fist, and thrust it over his chest. “Captain Levi, Sir! Usurper!”

  Levi pressed his fingertips to his forehead and tensed his jaw as Eren’s chest puffed out. It reminded Levi of when Eren would become lost to him for brief moments during The Catalyst. “Don’t call me that,” Levi snapped in annoyance at the little suck-up.

  “Nice salute.” Eren scoffed, frowning. “Brown-noser.”

  Expression plummeting, the man mumbled, “But it was textbook.”

  “Exactly,” Eren said and rolled his eyes. “That’s the problem.”

  Dahlia unwound her scarf from her neck as she strode to the table. She slapped the man on the arm with the back of her hand. “Jasper, I told you he wouldn’t take kindly to a salute.”

  “So this is your organization?” Levi surveyed the others. There was Hugo, the blonde, bearded horse-master who owned the nearby stable casually sipping at his tankard. Emelia, a local doctor. One of the lumber workers named Oskar who Levi sometimes saw on his shopping trips. Finally, he set his eyes on that bespectacled, ginger-haired lunatic, Hanzal, who came to the bookstore once every couple of months searching for volumes about science and oddities. Levi laughed. A dry chuckle pushing past his lips. “You rehearsing for a play or something? A reenactment on Remembrance Day?”

  Hanzal squealed and jumped up and down in her seat. “He’s as grumpy as the journals said!” Her disheveled ponytail bounced as she clapped her hands.

  Eren cleared his throat. “Journals?” he asked.

  Dahlia groaned, removed her coat, and sat down. “You had to get her going.”

  Hanzal was up on her feet scurrying across the room to a metal trunk in the corner. She was screeching through her grin as she kicked the lid open with her boot.

  “She’s been waiting for this,” Oskar said, pushing his dark brown hair from equally dark eyes.

  “Let’s get the introductions done first, Oskar.” Dahlia clasped her hands before her. She looked toward Eren and Levi. “All of you know who they are.”

  “I’m familiar with everyone,” Levi interrupted and pointed around the room, “Oskar, Hugo, Emelia, and Hanzal.” Then he jerked his chin at Jasper, “Except Mr. Salutey here. Who the fuck are you?”

  Jasper deflated as his smile fell.

  “One of our newest members,” Hugo spoke up as he stood, approaching Eren and Levi. He was taller and thicker around the middle than Levi recalled. Not doughy and soft, but hard and shaped like a barrel. “Like me, he’s a descendant of the Fritz line.” He didn't hold his burly hand out, but it twitched at his side like he wanted to.

  “The Crown?” Eren asked. He brought his hand to his forehead, listing on his feet.

  Levi steadied him, digging his fingers into Eren’s coat when Emelia bounded over.  

  “He needs rest,” she said, pushing a lock of black hair behind her ear.

  “No shit,” Levi snapped. “He was close to getting it.”

  “I truly am sorry for the interruption,” Dahlia said, gratingly flat, “but this takes precedence over any rest the lot of us wish to partake in.”

  Levi barely stifled a sneer when Eren’s footing wavered again.

  There was a sofa behind them, and Levi walked Eren over to it as his muscles tensed. Emelia and Hugo were on their heels. Too close.

  When Eren plopped down on the couch, let out a groan, and pulled back his hood, Emelia was reaching out to touch him. Levi whacked her dainty hands away and held an arm out before Eren as he shrugged out of his cloak and coat. “Until I know what your aim is, you keep the hell back.”

  “I need to examine him.”

  “You don't!”

  “Levi!” Dahlia called. “Be reasonable. No one here is trying to hurt Eren.”

  Levi’s arm dropped to Eren’s thigh. He took stock of the room. Of its occupants. Eren was on the couch looking terribly depleted, holding his hand over his own, tapping a rhythm on his knuckles that conveyed discomfort and agitation. Hugo was keeping a respectable five or six-foot space between them. Emelia; she was too close, crouching before he and Eren. Her distance was not respectful, nor was her hovering hand. Dahlia was glaring at him from her seat across the room. Like a strict granny who caught him stealing her candies. Jasper was staring with a gaping mouth. Looking like a fish. Oskar was tending to his drink. Hanzal was approaching. Fast-footed and frowning alongside her enthusiasm, just like someone Levi used to know.

  She skidded to a stop next to Emelia and flopped on the stone floor, practically sitting on Levi’s feet. She peered up at him through thick spectacles. Her brown eyes were magnified like big surprised baubles. “Breathe, Levi. Five deep breaths. Hold the last and blow it out slowly,” she said.

  He scowled at her; at how she knew what worked. Like she was in his head. Despite his obstinate glare and his refusal to comply, she didn't relent.

  “He’s still feverish from shifting. The markings haven't healed. Emelia has herbal extractions.” She swallowed and added less insistently, “They’ll help.”

  Levi could feel himself leaning closer to Eren. An unconscious reaction to too many people too near. He took one deep breath and frowned at the scars which had yet to fade.

  “Levi,” Eren started, meeting his eyes. They were soft and worried, bashing at the shield Levi was extending around them both. “If there’s something that would help…I feel like shit stuck to a boot…” He trailed off, wetting his lips. “And your head.”

  Emelia peered over Levi, still keeping a modicum of space between them “You’re bleeding.”

  “Observant of you.”

  “What happened?” Hanzal asked.

  “Bashed it into a tree,” Levi said. He shrugged minutely and cast his eyes back on Eren. “It’s nothing.”

  Hanzal nodded her head and scanned the floor. She hummed in acknowledgment. As if the stone beneath her knees provided an answer to a silent question. “You probably have a concussion,” she said.

  “I don’t give a shit.”

  “You both need treatment.” Emelia’s face was stern. Her words, curt. She played the part of the austere physician, regardless that old age and experience had yet to cultivate it. Levi would be more apt to take medicine at Dahlia’s prompting.

  His head ached. It pounded and throbbed, but between him and Eren, one of them needed their wits about them. “Worry about Eren for now.”

  “Emelia, make something for Eren, for-” Hanzal tapped her lip and looked at Levi. “A headache, puking, fever?”

  “Yes. Confusion too.” Levi nodded, adding in a whisper, “Like the past.”

  Hanzal’s jaw dropped, and Levi stared at her crooked teeth.

  “You remember?” she asked. Her pupils were as big as saucers. Her hands in fists, pulling up to her chin.

  “Do you think I’d entertain this if I didn't?”

  “And Eren too?” Dahlia called as she stood and moved to a bookshelf.

  “Since I shifted,” Eren said and closed his eyes. “Not much before that.”

  Emelia and Hanzal exchanged perplexed looks. Hugo bit his lip. Dahlia slid a massive book on the table which Oskar crowded over while Jasper began fiddling with a kettle on the stove.

  “This is amazing!” Hanzal squealed. “It defies even Hanji’s predictions.”

  “Hanji?” Levi asked quietly. His head was spinning and swimming. These morons were talking nonsense. It was as if he were in a facility for the insane or hearing bits of conversation through a thin wall while never getting the gist. He rubbed his hands over his face. “Hanji is long dead.”

  “That’s true,” Dahlia interjected. She swept her arms, holding them out to her sides. “But this is her legacy. The Secret Special Operations Division…” She smiled. “Or as Hanji preferred to call the organization; The Sawney and Bean Group.”

  Levi heaved a heavy sigh. Fucking Hanji. No wonder everyone in the basement seemed crazy.

  Eren rubbed his temples and released a little groan.

  “What is it?” Levi asked, leaning closer and brushing the hair from Eren’s steaming eyes.

  “Just a memory.” He grimaced. “It hurts.”

  “Emelia, get him some damn medicine,” Dahlia scolded.

  “Give me a little time,” Emelia whispered. She got to her feet and rushed to a cabinet on the wall. As she opened it, she called over her shoulder, “I have something to help with the memories too. Coming all at once like this I’m surprised Eren is conscious at all.”

  “Annie killed them,” Eren mumbled and closed his eyes.

  “Yes,” Levi said. “Try to rest.”

  Eren nodded, and Hanzal looked between them with sympathetic eyes. Too familiar again. Levi shook his head.

  Hugo was still keeping a distance, but he sat down crossed legged on the floor. “Hanzal doesn't remember,” he said. “It’s both her blessing and her curse.”

  “Not now, Hugo,” Hanzal said. “There’s Eren to worry over for the moment.”

  They were speaking in riddles. Levi dragged in a deep breath. He crossed his left knee over the right but shifted closer to Eren. These people were strange. They were holding back. Feeding them trickles of information. If they were to be there, instead of at home where he could look after Eren and tend to him in bed, he would know it all.

  “Explain,” Levi started, putting on his most serious expression. If he were going to be saluted as The Captain, he’d act like him. “Out with it.”

  Hugo shrugged. “That’s fair.” He moved closer and laid his hand over Hanzal’s shoulder. “Hanzal was Hanji.”

  “I don't remember it,” she said. Her head dropped, but it popped back up after a moment with an excited grin that pressed her cheeks up to her eyes. “But I wrote very detailed journals. And my research is brilliant. Genius really.”

  “And correct it appears,” Oskar added from his place at the table. “It could be as Hanji thought.”

  Another headache was developing in the center of Levi’s forehead. He wanted answers or to leave, though given the pace and sound of Eren’s breathing he was half asleep. Based on the looks between these organization members, their expressions, body language, and the infuriating tickles of truth, there was too much to tell quickly.

  Levi pinched the bridge of his nose and counted silently. All the way to ten then back down. He hung on zero, holding a breath then pressed it out, controlled and even. He looked up, swiveling his head, meeting the gaze of each occupant in the basement, save Eren. “You’re not able to explain this expediently,” he said, “because there’s too much.”

  Dahlia shook her head. “No, Levi. But if you and Eren have memories from the war, from that life. It might be easier.”

  “I have memories from all of them,” said Levi. He flicked his gaze toward Emelia as she poured liquid from different bottles into a teacup. “Eren too.”

  Hanzal leaned forward, putting her hands on Levi’s knees. Her nose was almost touching his as she blinked at him. “Everything?” she said, practically all breath.

  Levi nodded and pushed her back a good six inches. “Everything.”

  “I was right!” Hanzal yelled bursting to her feet.

  And then Eren was groaning, straightening in his seat, and leaning his head against Levi’s shoulder. He pressed his fingers to his eyes and ran his hand down his face. “Can you keep it down!”

  “Sorry,” Hanzal whispered, biting a knuckle.

  “Really,” Dahlia said. “Your yelling is unnecessary.” She looked at Emelia, scowling. “Is that medicine ready yet? The poor boy is suffering.”

  “It’s coming right along,” Jasper said and poured tea into two cups.

  That’s what Levi needed to settle his mind. To wrap it around information which was too difficult to grasp. Eren was clinging to him, nuzzling his face against his arm, and something in Levi wanted to cling right back. Over two hundred years floundering along with no answers, devouring any book he could find. Searching, and digging, and hoping, and now he was sitting before people who understood and weren’t looking at him like he was mad.

  Eren was tracing circles over the back of his hand, observing whatever he was drawing there. Though damaged pride or discomfort over others seeing something so intimate didn’t come. When Eren straightened up and stopped as Emelia and Jasper approached, Levi longed for it once again.

  Emelia handed Levi a cold, wet cloth. Her fingers were twitchy, though her expression was resolute, her eyes softening when Levi swiped it from her hand with the most peaceful grumble he could muster. He placed it over the back of Eren’s neck.

  Jasper was standing before them, holding a tray with two teacups on it. He offered Eren his drink first. “The one on the right,” he said. “You should feel better soon.”

  Eren took it with a trembling hand, straightening himself as his fingers clasped the handle tighter. “Thanks.”

  Jasper nodded and swept his eyes to Levi, offering him a cup. “I made it just how you like it, Capt- I mean, Levi.” He smiled, and Eren made an annoyed sound in his throat.

  Levi glanced at Eren taking a sip from his own cup.

  Eren whipped his head in Jasper’s direction, eyes flashing before he had finished swallowing. “Levi doesn’t like it this hot!” Eren hissed, lips pulling back and exposing his teeth. Then he rolled his eyes. “You over-steeped it too, you fucking kiss-ass!”

  Emelia gasped. Jasper crumpled. Dahlia laughed. Hugo rolled his eyes. And Levi smirked behind his first sip. Eren was correct.

  “Drink it slowly,” Emelia said to Eren before she backed off with the rest of the group, explaining to them it would be best to give Eren space until the medicine began taking effect.

  Hanzal didn't stray too far, taking a chair adjacent to them, scratching down something in a notebook. She glanced at Levi. “Don't mind me. Head’s too full, I need to pour it out.”

  The respite was welcome, if only for Levi to come up with a plan of attack. He’d trade information for information. Just that until he had enough to assess the situation.

  He looked at the five huddled around the table. They weren't speaking in hushed voices, only looking through that big, bulky book Dahlia had brought to the table. Levi could hear bits and pieces. Something about the paths caught his ear. He would ask about that later. It tapped at suspicions he’d entertained before. Possibilities he had pondered alone in the consuming dark when sleep alluded him.

  Eren snuggled closer. He sipped his over-steeped, too hot, no doubt bitter with medicine tea. Levi could feel his still too warm breath on his ear. Hear little indiscernible whispers streaming from Eren’s lips.

  “Hmm,” Levi hummed, reaching for Eren’s free hand.

  There was a small hitch in Eren’s breath as he pressed closer. “Take me apart when we get home.”

  Goosebumps rose on Levi’s skin. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead when Hanzal smirked and winked at him.

  He didn’t give a fuck, only brushed the back of his fingers over Eren’s wrist with exhausted covertness. Hanzal was raising her eyebrows, grinning, flicking her eyes up from her notebook every three seconds. Her expression resembled one Hanji had shot him in his past life when she was holding back and about to burst. When she’d poke him with questions about his and Eren’s relationship. Enquiring what sex was like with a titan shifter. If Levi was afraid of biting him. If he ever had. If Eren steamed from odd places. If she could watch for research purposes.

  “Levi…” Eren said, drawing his attention back to the present. “This tea is bitter.”

  Levi took a sip of his own. “It’s the medicine.”

  “It tastes like shit.” Eren frowned at the light green liquid in his cup. He’d only made it a third of the way through. “It’s gross,” he whined.

  “Would you like some honey, Eren?” Hanzal asked and stood. “It will cover some of the taste.”

  “Fine,” Eren groaned and pressed his fingertips to his brow.

  Levi ignored Hanzal traipsing off to the other side of the room and refocused on Eren. “Is it helping?”

  “A bit,” Eren said. “I just wish my head would stop hurting.”

  Before Hanzal had returned, Emelia was back, holding out a small vial. “Peppermint oil,” she said as Levi examined it. “Put it on his temples and the nape of his neck. It will knock some of the pain back while the tincture takes effect.”

  Levi nodded his thanks as she dropped it in his palm while Eren frowned at the container in Levi’s hand skeptically.

  “Don’t think that’s going to work,” Eren said, allowing Hanzal to take his cup when she was back with the honey.

  “Try it anyway,” Emelia insisted.

  “You’re just as stubborn as Hanji’s journals said too.” Hanzal was grinning again, stirring Eren’s tea with clanky, uneven bumps of the spoon against the china.

  Eren glared, relaxed back, and took his cup with unsteady fingers when she handed it over. “And you’re as nuts as you used to be.”

  Opening the tiny flask, Levi dabbed the substance on the tip of his index finger. At his first breath, the scent struck his nose. Sharp and prickly in his nostrils, though he could feel his own head clearing as he inhaled deeper.

  In one life when Levi was a young teen, his migraines were splinting. His mother had fretted over him and rubbed a similar smelling substance on his temples.

  “Try to relax,” Levi mumbled, applying the oil to Eren’s left temple first. He could feel his pounding pulse beneath the tips of his fingers and wondered if it was in time with the throb Eren had cried in the car about. He saw titans battling inside Eren’s skull. Beating drums, and roaring, and slamming their fists into his cranium.

  Eren’s eyes had been racing from side to side beneath his lids when Levi began, but when he reapplied more oil to his forefingers and started massaging both his temples with gentle pressure, he noticed the movement slowing. The pained crinkling in the corners of his eyes smoothed as he took a sip of his tea. It was half finished. He grimaced momentarily after he swallowed.

  Feeling Eren relax under his careful touch, Levi continued rubbing the liniment into his head while Eren sipped at his tea. By the time he had finished with his neck, the empty teacup was slipping from his fingers. Levi took it and deposited it on the table next to the sofa.

  He nudged him on his shoulder. “Eren?”

  A snore was the only response Levi was given. He poked again as his breath came short and his throat went tight. For a moment, Levi felt very, very alone.

  “He’ll be out for a while,” Hanzal said, closing her notebook and setting it aside.

  “What did she give him?” Levi asked, straining to keep his voice even. His hand was clenching where it was resting on his knee, remnants of peppermint oil cooling his palm where his fingers dug into it.

  “Nothing dangerous, it will-”

  “He needs to sleep,” Emelia chimed in as she strode to the sitting area. He arms were crossed while an admonishing line etched her brow. “The herbs will keep him sedated for a few hours.”

  Levi shot up. “So you knocked him out.” He said it in a strained, shouting whisper, unsure why he was bothering to keep his voice quiet.

  Emelia took a step back. “It’s Hanji’s own prescription. Straight from her journals.”

  “I’ll get it!” Hanzal dashed away toward a bookcase once again.

  “Do that,” Levi called after her. “Hurry up.”

  Emelia’s lips formed a tight knot, her cheeks puffing out, looking as if she was trapping words behind them. She exhaled a harsh breath. “Levi...it’s the same as what Hanji gave him in the past. When he consumed another soul.”

  “Here.” Hanzal thrust a worn, leather-bound notebook at him. “Right there.” She was pointing to some scribbles near the center of the page.

  Her expression was mild when Levi ripped the book away before he sat back stiffly on the cushion next to Eren.

  Flicking his eyes over the page, Levi’s heart knocked against his ribs with a note of shock and apprehension. He swallowed around the knot in his throat, reaching out a tentative finger to touch the twitchy script. It was familiar. He squinted at it as he did in the past when Hanji sent him reports and instructions and he was forced to sift through doodles, margin notes, and frazzled penmanship.

  There were precise measurements listed for Black Poppy Tears, Henbane, Mandragora, Corydalis, Willow Bark Extract, Elderberry, and Ginger below the thickly underlined words, _“PERFECT REMEDY.”_ Beside it, scribbled in near microscopic writing were instructions for use after “consuming a shifter.”

  Levi leafed back through the pages before it. They were filled with the evolution of the treatment. Differing amounts of each ingredient, other extracts Hanji had attempted to use then crossed out. Commentary on Levi’s behavior and “fierce protectiveness.” Possibilities as to why Eren deteriorated after each successive instance when he consumed another shifter.

  With a small sigh, Levi recalled it. The first time it had occurred—when Eren consumed the Warhammer—he had suffered no adverse effects that Levi had been told of, though as he took more into himself, the symptoms appeared and worsened. By the time Eren had eaten the third, he was so ill, and addled Hanji was forced to induce a coma-like state for two days.

  “How long until he’s up?” Levi asked, looking at Hanzal’s boots.

  “Three to four hours.” She flipped through the journal, pausing at a page titled, _“SIDE EFFECTS.”_

  When Levi took stock of the list, it was as he expected; drowsiness, sluggishness, nodding off, possible nausea which could be countered with more ginger. He checked the margins for anything else of interest, his gaze halting at a doodle in the corner with his name written next to it.

  The shitty, poorly shaded sketch resembled a slice of toasted bread. Complete with arms, booted legs, off-center parted hair, and facial features. Beneath its thin, frowning eyebrows were bruised, droopy eyes and a small pointy nose. The lips were drawn in a scowl above a sharp chin and what appeared to be a cravat on the piece of toast’s neck—or over its crotch—depending on how one looked at it.

  Levi rolled his eyes at the words written below it: _“BORING, BORING, BORING! LEVI IS A PIECE OF TOAST!”_

  His lips twitched. “Crazy bitch.”

  Levi leaned back and looked up at Hanzal when she began cackling. “I was hilarious,” she said, slapping her legs.

  “Sometimes...” Levi thought aloud.

  The dispirited weight which had been hanging around his neck for over a day lifted fractionally. This was Hanji or a version of her. Those were her journals. He knew the writing, the disjointed thoughts added in a manner of organized insanity. The stupid doodle wasn’t unusual. He’d found them on paperwork before, and compared to their usual tendency toward lewdness, ‘Toast Levi’ was rather tame.

  “Would you like a refill?” Emelia asked, eyeing Levi’s empty teacup.

  “Hmm,” Levi nodded and bit his bottom lip. He handed her the cup, then looked at Hanzal. “Eren could use a blanket.”

  Leaning toward Eren, she stopped midway, her hand reaching toward Eren’s face as her eyes met Levi’s in a silent question. Levi closed his own and dropped his chin. A silent answer.

  “He’s cool enough for it,” she said, holding her palm against Eren’s forehead. “The elderberry should help with that. We should get him a fresh compress too.” She crouched before Levi again. “You’re taking good care of him. Based on the notes, I’m surprised you got him here on two feet.”

  “It wasn’t simple to monitor,” Levi said, not sure if he was explaining too much or not enough. “He burns too hot.”

  “Probably will all the time. Like he used to,” she said, pausing for a moment before her eyes lit up. It was like flames were ignited behind them. “We have most of Hanji’s old equipment. There might be one of the old thermometers for Eren and Armin not broken to pieces among all the other thingamajigs. I’ll send it home with you.”

  “Appreciated.”

  Hanzal fiddled with her hands, then called over her shoulder. “We should all meet ‘round here. And someone bring Eren a blanket and wet cloth.”

  Levi took Eren’s hand, feeling the cooler skin on the back of it with his thumb while Hanzal settled onto the floor and tugged at her greasy hair.

  “I’ve read all the journals practically to memorization. I know you won’t move from him,” she said to Levi.

  He held Eren’s hand tighter. “I won’t.”

  “You’re cautious,” Hanzal said, eyes darkening below a knowing frown.

  Levi nodded. “I am.”

  “You won’t risk Eren either,” Hanzal whispered, tilting closer to Levi.  

  Leaning forward a bit, Levi vowed, “Never again.”

  “Will you trust us?” Hanzal asked, peering up at him.

  Levi tapped his fingers on his knee. “Prove to me we can.”

 

*****

 

  Everyone was settled around Levi, camped out on the rough stone floor. Other than Dahlia. She had taken the seat adjacent to the couch where Hanzal had been sitting earlier. Hanzal kept herself posted near Levi’s feet, making herself into a barrier of sorts between Eren and Levi and the rest of the group.

  Levi found Eren’s hand again, and met each of the members’ glances, save for Hanzal who was organizing journals and books into piles on the floor amidst them.

  “I think it’s best we begin with this organization,” Dahlia said, opening her folded hands. “With what our aim is. Fair, Levi?”

  “Go ahead,” Levi said.

  “You were taught of our history while a child? In school?” she asked. “Or you’ve read the books.”

  He hadn’t attended school in this life. “Yes.”

  “The resolution of the Titan War, the banishment of the souls...it’s a lie.”

  “What a fucking surprise,” Levi said.

  Dahlia rolled her eyes at him. “If I may continue…” she said, going on when Levi nodded. “The masses believe the government and crown were able to consolidate the nine into the body of Amos Reiss twenty-seven years after the conclusion of the war. This is an inaccuracy.”

  “A blatant lie,” Oskar added.

  Levi raised his brow. “You don’t say?”

  Hugo laughed into his tankard of ale.

  “We should take them out,” Jasper said with narrowed eyes. “Like the Uprising!”

  Levi shook his head. “Seems that worked out great.”

  “The sarcasm is lovely, but there’s hardly time for it,” Dahlia scolded. She took a long, slow sip from her cup, looking like a mother waiting for children to settle down.

  Levi pulled in a sharp breath and blew it out. “So what really happened?”

  “Nothing,” Oskar said. “They fabricated the story; ‘Amos Reiss ate them all, sealed himself in a crystal, and is in a secure location.’” He lifted his hand, twisting his wrist in circles as he took a thick gulp of his drink. “Those blue-blooded assholes and military jackasses lost them.”

  Levi thought of Armin. Of the history books. Of the imaginary scenes that had haunted his mind. Of Armin giving himself up to be consumed by his inheritor. “All of them?” he asked.

  As if reading his thoughts, Hanzal said, “Even Armin.”

  “So they’ve been loose for over two-hundred years.” Levi’s grasp around Eren’s hand tightened.

  “Exactly,” Emelia said. She had been silent up until then. “And the government has been looking for them ever since. Though they aren’t easy to find. Of course reports of children mysteriously dying at thirteen brings about investigations, but by then it’s too late. They’ve moved on to another host.”

  “Eckhard then…” Levi began, gritting his teeth against the wave of rage. “He works for the King?”

  “No,” Hugo said. “He works for my uncle.”

  Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. Complicated. Everything was always so fucking complicated. “Who’s your uncle?”

  “Gunter Fritz.” Dahlia sat back, taking up the reins of conversation once more. “One of many in the line through the years who have desired to see the power of the titans return. It’s a common story; a fragmented royal family, those who sit on the throne are liars, though maintain the lie doing what they believe is best. Those who have broken away are fanatics who believe Eldia should rule the world once again.” She flicked her hand and closed her eyes. “Typical political madness and tug of war. Power hungry ninnies.”

  Levi clicked his tongue.

  “But here we come to our organization.” She gestured to the others. “Hanji predicted this. It’s why she left the SC at the conclusion of the war and formed this secret organization.”

  “But it’s more than that,” Hanzal said. “Hanji saw you almost thirty years after you died.” She paged through one of the journals beside her. “She saw what she thought was recognition, and it’s what finally helped her shape her theory. Her belief that you and Eren would return with a purpose.”

  He remembered it. When he was a teen in his first life after The Catalyst. When he was still confused by the memories, he saw Hanji face to face on the street two hundred years before. Her hair was grey, her face creased and weathered with age and years with too little rest, but he knew it was the woman from his dreams and visions. “Did she ever see Eren?” Levi asked.

“No,” Hanzal said, “but she believed the titans would return to Eren.”

  The room felt darker. Like it was eating Levi’s skin. Then as if something was going to crawl from his throat. He was unable to catch the choke in his voice when he asked, “Why Eren?”

  The group exchanged worried looks, bit their lips, scratched their heads, avoided looking directly at Levi or Eren for a moment.

  “Answer me,” Levi demanded with a stomp of his left foot.

  “We don’t know why exactly,” Hanzal started, her voice rushing when she continued, “I mean, Hanji didn’t know why.” She threw her hands up before they flopped on her lap. “Not exactly. But we think it’s the paths.”

  “They aren’t random,” Hugo added and lifted his hands. “I know because I can read them. All Eldians come back, and those of the Ackerman clan too.”

  “And there’s something special about Eren,” Emelia said. She looked regretful. Averting her eyes to where her fingers were toying with the edge of her expensive, blue, wool dress. “You two must be connected. So there’s a reason for that as well.”

  “Or so we think,” Oskar said.

  “But they’re together again now.” Jasper stood, glaring at Oskar. “That proves it! Eren is The Captain’s liege.”

  “No he’s not,” Levi said, controlling his voice. “I don't have a damn liege.”

  “Be silent, Jasper,” Dahlia hissed. “And sit down for Maria’s sake, you’re behaving like a fool.”

  “We aren’t even sure that theory is correct.” Hanzal slammed a journal down on top of a stack with a growl. “Haven’t you read this? It debunks the liege theory soundly.”

  Levi leaned forward, his tongue catching on a question, pulse beginning to race. “Is there a theory about the lifespan in there?”

  Most of the group found the floor and ceiling more interesting than Levi, but Hugo and Hanzal watched him. She turned around and faced Levi, standing up on her knees between his. “You mean beyond thirteen years?”

  “Yes,” Levi said quietly. He looked at Eren under the blanket, observing the scars on his cheeks, his eyelids softly closed, his lips gently parted releasing quiet, rumbling breaths. His expression was slack. Peaceful. Levi wanted to see Eren awake and smiling at him, walking into the shop after work with rose-tinged cheeks. Touchy and clingy and demanding nothing more than Levi’s lips and embrace. “Eren said he was born like this...his head wasn't clear, but he was adamant.” Levi bit the inside of his cheek and turned back to Hanzal. The syllables tasted like a tainted treat. “But he’d be dead already.”

  Hanzal opened her mouth, hesitating while looking at him with intrigued widening eyes.

  Dahlia sat forward in her seat, the lines in her brow deepening as her fingers gripped the arms of her chair. “Are you sure?”

  Was he ‘sure?’

  He slammed his teacup on his thigh sending remnants of liquid flying. “No. I’m not fucking sure!” He wasn't even certain he was awake. He could be dreaming. Or perhaps Eckhard’s bullet had found him, and he was dead. Maybe this was the afterlife. Stuck in a room full of fruitcakes for eternity while Eren slept away next to him. He felt his pulse throb in his temples, then a fresh stream of blood sliding down his head.

  Levi wet his lips. “Eren had memories,” he said. “We went to retrieve relics from our past lives.” He was squeezing Eren’s hand too tight. He ripped it away. “Then that bastard, Eckhard—who's been following us—shows up with a long, boring speech, tries to kidnap Eren, and Eren turns into a titan.” He planted his face in his hand. “Yesterday he healed like anyone else…”

  “I’m sorry, Levi.” Dahlia reached out her hand, trying to grasp for his.

  He slapped it away and stood. “Don't touch me.”

  Other than the sound of paper scraping against paper as Hanzal sifted through a book, the room was near silent. Levi could hear the crackle and hiss of logs in the stove, Eren’s soft breath, the clunk of Oskar’s tankard on the stone when he placed it down, the tinkling of Dahlia’s bracelet as she toyed with the links of chain.

  Oskar ran a shaky hand through his wavy, unkempt hair. “You confronted Eckhard?”

  “Not on purpose,” Levi said. “Like I said, that piece of shit’s been following us.”

  “Heard through the grapevine he’d been into your shop.” Hugo cracked his knuckles and adjusted the knife at his hip. “The limey bastard’s been sneaking ‘round the town for weeks.”

  Levi smirked. A tingle of malevolence crept up his spine. “Asshole’ll be down for a bit. I got him in the neck, and Eren burned him good. I don’t think he was expecting him to shift,” he said. “Though he came prepared, decked out in 3DMG...didn’t help with much more than his escape.”

  “I didn’t expect he would risk revealing himself like that so soon.” Dahlia’s expression was stern, her lips pressing in a tight, straight line. Redolent of a messenger preparing to deliver grim news. “Gunter must be nervous. This isn’t good at all.”

  Crossing his arms, Levi said, “I used to know a Gunter...he didn’t make it to the worst of the war.”

  “From your first squad,” Hugo said, “not the same soul.”  

  “We need to do something!” Jasper struck his palm with his fist. “Straight away. Now that we have the Capt- Levi, and Eren can shift, we can-”

  “I’m not doing shit until Eren’s better, and I know what the fuck is going on with him.”

  Jasper glowered. “But-”

  “Levi’s right,” Hugo interrupted, “besides, you’re not going to change the bloke’s mind, or didn’t you read the history?”

  “He never reads the history,” Oskar mumbled.

  “Eren is my priority,” Levi added. “Not your war or whatever this is. He’s not your weapon.”

  “I found it,” Hanzal whispered. It wasn't a quiet whisper. It was a loud whisper. The kind someone makes when their throat is too thick and tight with emotion, awe, or astonishment. “It’s right here!” she said, poking an index finger so hard against the page Levi was surprised it didn't break. She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Hanji’s theory on dormancy.” She gaped up at Levi from her place on the floor. “He wasn't injected by any nefarious characters, we’re sure of that? He wasn’t snatched away by evil-doers?”

  Eren was at the bakery on Saturday, and then he was home. Afterward, he wasn't out of Levi’s sight. He’d nicked his thumb while he sharpened his jackknife. He’d been in Levi’s arms while they made love. Levi had left deep purple bruises on Eren’s throat, chest, and under his left ear. He was curled around Levi all during the night and smiling at him in the morning.

  He looked over at Eren sleeping. The blemishes had still been there when they left town the previous morning. When they dug up the chest. When Eckhard’s blade was pressed to Eren’s neck.

  Now they were gone. “It couldn't have happened,” Levi said as he sat down. He brushed his thumb over a now bare patch of skin under Eren’s jaw. “He wasn't away from me.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Emelia whispered.

  Hanzal thrust the notebook in her direction, leaving it inches from her face. “It makes all the sense! It’s Hanji theory, distilled and fermented with my own, you simpleton.”

  “Simpleton?” Emelia repeated with a gasp.

  “That’s right!” Hanzal poked Emelia in the shoulder. “They were dormant!”

  “Would you two shut the hell up!” Levi was standing again, snarling over the lot of them. “Fucking idiots.”

  Hanzal deflated and collapsed to the stone on her ass. “Sorry, Levi.”

  “It’s not the time to debate this again.” Oskar was poking at the bowl of a long-stemmed pipe. He brought it to his mouth and lit a match. Then he took a thoughtful draw and sent eddies of rich, sweet smoke toward the ceiling. “If Eren’s got them all, Hugo will know.” He toked on it again, exhaling his puff in Emelia’s direction. “There. Problem fucking solved.”

  Dahlia cleared her throat. “If he has them all, this situation has grown much more grave.”

  “All the titans?” Levi asked. He swallowed as his head began to spin. He remembered the wall of crystal, the smooth spires of rock, Eren’s sharp, pointed teeth, his armored fists.

  “Yes,” Hanzal said.

  “You don't look good,” Emelia said rising. “I can see that goose egg, the blood. Let me have a look.”

  “No.” His vision was blurry. His head was pounding. When he peered down at Hanzal, there were two of her. Two hands when she reached toward his left one and poked it. “Leave him for now, Emelia,” she said then looked up at Levi. She had four eyes. “Sit back down Levi. Eren will need you when he wakes up.”

  Relenting, Levi returned to his seat. He adjusted Eren’s blanket, buying himself for a few moments to count. To breathe. To clear his fuzzy vision.

  “We have to call for more units,” Jasper said. It drew Levi’s attention. Jasper was looking at Dahlia imploringly, yet there was a touch of fierce vacuousness as well. An expression Levi had witnessed in the past. Those who made it tended to get killed.

  “Are you a moron, Jasper?” Dahlia was frowning. She got to her feet and began pacing. “It will only draw attention.”

  “Units?” Levi asked, “What units?”

  Dahlia smiled, releasing a demure chuckle. “You didn’t think everyone you see here is the extent of The Secret Special Operations Division, did you?”

  He hadn’t considered it amidst the storm of lunacy that had been battering him since he and Eren had arrived.

  “We’re over two thousand strong across the island and beyond,” Oskar lifted his head toward Dahlia, “all led by this old bat before you.”

  Hanzal punched Oskar in the arm. “Have some respect.”

  Head throbbing with a strike of white-hot pain, Levi pressed his fingertips against his eyes. “You’re telling me the nosey old baker is the head of a vast resistance network?” He understood now why she had a gun in her glove box, and wondered how long the organization had been watching them. If they had in other incarnations. If all their activities centered around him and Eren.

  “Yes.” Hanzal guffawed and smacked Levi’s shin with the back of her hand. “We have an army too.”

  “And you see now...I have reason to be nosey,” Dahlia added.

  “You lead an army?” Levi asked. He was near laughing. He’d died the day before and crossed into another world. It was likely snowing upside down.

  “As her line has since the SSOD’s inception,” Jasper said, expanding with illustrious pride. “As the great, great, great, great, great-granddaughter of our nation's most esteemed Commander, Mikasa Kirschtein. _That_ is Dahlia’s legacy.”

  Levi’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed. His breaths came short. From his books, he knew Jean and Mikasa had wed, that they had survived the war, and had a family, but Dahlia’s blood to have slipped his attention was baffling. The mannerisms, the laughs that went from prim giggles to great heaving chortles. Dahlia’s extreme fondness of Eren and her protectiveness of him. The ever-present scarf and her constant readjustments to it. He wanted to pop himself in the head as the pieces fell into place. “Then you’re an Ackerman,” he said as his brows descended. “I would know it.”

  Sighing, Dahlia returned to her seat. “Afraid the blood’s a tad diluted. My fighting prowess never came close to Mikasa’s or her daughter’s, but I have a bit of the Ackerman perception and instincts. It’s what helped me identify you.”

  “Not to mention,” Hanzal began, “you look exactly the same.” She sprawled herself over the volumes scattered on the floor, grasping a thick book with sturdy pages. When she opened it, Levi saw photographs fastened to the vellum. Hanzal searched then held the album out to Levi. She pointed at a picture of him and Eren posing by their horses. “See, exactly the same. The both of you. Which is so weird.” She seemed to float away in thought for a moment. “Even your hair. You must really love that style,” she said snickering. “But I digress...no one else ever comes back exactly like they were, but you two did.”

  “We always do,” Levi whispered. He took the album from Hanzal and set it on his lap, drawing his fingertip over Eren’s youthful countenance in the snapshot. A moment in time frozen after Hanji had become fascinated with a camera she had expropriated from the Marley soldiers’ boat. It had taken her days to decide on the composition, the backdrop, and lighting. Eren had even brushed his growing, yet often bedraggled hair for the occasion.

  Levi bit his lip, remembering that life. Recalling when Eren was only sixteen and his smiles still came often and freely. When he still grinned as he had in the picture; cheeky and daring and bright.

  After Hanji was satisfied with their positioning and the late afternoon sun, she had told them to stand still and not blink. Eren had grasped Levi’s hand a moment before the shutter opened, and Levi hadn’t been able to mask his surprise in time. He had ‘punished’ Eren soundly that night. With kisses and tickles to his ribs. Stinging love bites to his throat and hips, teasing Eren until he begged and sobbed for Levi to be inside him.

  “Levi,” Hanzal said, drawing him from days long gone to the present. “When Eren wakes up, Hugo needs to read Eren’s paths. Yours too. It’s important.”

  “How?”

  Hanzal took a deep breath, swung her eyes to the left, then blew it out. “He’ll need to touch Eren.” She put her hands up. “Very lightly. Not too much.”

  Levi scowled. He’d endured a melange of emotions since two nights before. For decades if he were honest. There were more now, and too much information, overstimulation, and revelations jumbled them up, leaving him sure he would ignite with them. But most of all, there was a tormenting fear of allowing anyone to put their hands on Eren. He’d allowed Hanzal to check his forehead, but that was different. He felt like a wild beast protecting a mate, or something equally savage. Base and primordial. “How?” he reiterated tersely.

  “Tips of the fingers to the temples,” Hugo said. “Might be best if Eren laid down though. The memories of former shifters could make him lightheaded I suspect. Some squirming maybe.” He spoke carefully, “It’ll make me lightheaded too. If he gets uncomfortable so do I...it’s a spiritual connection as well as physical.”

  His muscles curled and tensed beneath his skin as he nodded his assent. “If Eren will allow it when he wakes,” Levi said, his voice dropped, and he felt danger come to his expression. “If you hurt him, I’ll cut you in two and shove the bottom half down your gullet.”

  “He really will,” Hanzal said, looking enthralled.

  Raising his hands, Hugo nodded. “I’ve no intention of hurting him, Mate.”

  “Hugo could try you first.” Oskar leaned back, resting an elbow on the floor. He took a draw off his pipe then a sip from his tankard before resting it on his hip. He raised an eyebrow, looking almost bored. “We’ve all done it. Don’t hurt, just makes some people dizzy or tired.”

  “Not until Eren wakes.” Tapping the tips of his fingers together, Levi swept his gaze around the room. “For now I want to hear how the danger has risen. Cockamamy schemes, how the world will crumble, anarchy, the end of everything…that bullshit.” He pressed his steepled fingers under his chin. “It was plain enough from Eckhard’s song and dance he knew about Eren’s titan. That’s why he wants him. I assume the Crown will too if they know…and if he has them all, then I guess we’re double fucked?” He leaned forward, leveling the organization members with a darkly mirthful gaze. “Triple fucked? Quadruple?”

  “Nine times fucked,” Jasper said. He shrugged when everyone except Levi gaped at him. “Well there’s nine, so if Eren has them all, it’s nine times fucked. Right?”

  Levi sighed.

  “We don’t need to quantify how _fucked_ we are, Jasper,” Dahlia said. “We need a plan, but we need more information first.” She looked at Levi. “We’ve been forthcoming, but anything else you could tell us would be helpful, Levi.”

  

*****

 

  For two hours, Levi recounted his lives since The Catalyst. He told the organization members of his death at its conclusion, leaving out specific details that scratched too profoundly at his heart or were too personal. They listened with rapt attention as he explained how he had begun to recall past incarnations as a teenager in the next life. Not only of the life before, but the others previous to it.

  He kept a close eye on Eren and the distance between them short as he told the tale of Eren finding him this time, and his unusual, yet accurate memories.

  As she had been since their arrival, Hanzal continued scouring books and scribbling details as Levi spoke. Sometimes she asked questions, digging for deeper bits of information, and she was exceedingly interested in Eren’s episode in the museum. Eren had begun to whimper and groan when Levi spoke of it, so he cut the conversation short, and moved on to recount what had happened in the forest with Eckhard.

  When he concluded with what was likely the tenth check to his pocket watch, the others nearly deflated in unison. As if Levi had been tugging them all along by strings before they slipped from his grasp.  

  Levi ran his fingers through his hair, smearing sticky half-dried blood on his left hand, then laid his right on Eren’s forehead, determining he was far less feverish than he had been half an hour earlier. In Eren’s absence, Levi may have been too forthcoming. But once he began, the tale poured from his lips with less restraint than he usually exercised. It was too simple after holding it mostly to himself for eons, feeling as if he and Eren were all alone.

  Still, the mental kick to his own ass did nothing to stop his palms from beginning to sweat, or his lip from pulling between his teeth. Eren had been asleep for slightly longer than three hours, and the countdown to ungovernable fretting had begun.

  Breaking the silence of quiet contemplation, Dahlia cleared her throat. “Thank you, Levi.”

  “Yeah,” Jasper said. “Thanks.”

  “It’s a lot of shit to process, to be sure,” Oskar said.

  Standing and brushing her hands down her arms, Emelia nodded. “The insights into Eren’s memories will help me and Hanzal formulate an effective treatment to help him with his memories.”

  “We should get started on that,” Hanzal said to Emelia. “I’d like to have something ready for him this evening without having to knock him out again.” She turned to Levi. “He’ll be waking up soon. His eye movement is increasing. Watch out though. Based on Hanji’s notes, he’s going to be very grouchy.”

  Levi would be astounded if Eren didn’t yell at everyone including himself and start crying. “I know.”

  “I think we could all use some tea,” Emelia said.

  After seven cups, Levi’s bladder was already close to bursting, and he was tired of Earl Grey. He waved a dismissive hand. “None for me, thank you.”

  Leaving Dahlia and Levi to themselves, Oskar, Jasper, Hanzal, Emelia, and Hugo departed to various areas of the basement. Hanzal and Emelia moved off and hunkered over a massive wooden desk in the corner strewn with glass beakers, vials, and a small burner. Oskar and Hugo set themselves up with another round of ale at the communal table near the stove looking pensive and worn. Jasper sat at a workbench and began tinkering with what seemed to be another new configuration of 3DMG.

  The action left Levi desiring to sharpen knives.

  Dahlia was quiet until Emelia brought her fresh cup of tea. She accepted it with a “Thank you,” then waved her off. Taking a sip, she regarded Levi, the kindly expression he was accustomed to seeing from her was still there, but it was sketched with vehement lines of unease. Much to Levi’s consternation, he felt the same disquietude creasing into his brow and seeping under his skin.

  “You’ll argue,” said Dahlia in her familiar soft voice, “but I think it’s best if we devise a plan. One which doesn’t include you and Eren remaining in Trost for the time being.”

  Levi knew it was coming. He unfastened the top button at his collar as he sat back then propped his right ankle on his knee. “Back in the day, I bet you skipped foreplay.”

  Letting loose a throaty chuckle, Dahlia set her teacup on the table. She wiped at the tears under her eyes as the laugh died to giggles, sighs, and then a final deep breath. “And what’s to say I still don’t?”

  Levi smirked despite his discomfort. “Fair enough.”

  “Jokes and your sarcasm aside, you and I both know it’s not safe for the two of you here. Especially not Eren. As soon as Eckhard’s healed—likely before—he will come back and he won’t be alone.” She looked the serious old granny again, the lines in her face deepening around warmly curving lips. “Besides, you need to retrain, and Eren needs to learn to control his shifting. If you find yourself in imminent danger again, I doubt he’ll be able to stop himself.”

  Levi found Eren’s hand under the blanket once more. It was shaky, warm, and sweaty, but his fingers tightened around Levi’s. Like they had been waiting there for him. Almost too hard, too desperate. Levi looked for a counter-argument in his lap and found it empty. “I’m aware.”

  “He’d be devastated if he hurt anyone. If we had a modern-day repeat of the destruction he caused during the old days.” She tended to her Earl Grey again. “Not to mention, the secret would be out, and the Crown would be on our tails. On yours. If they were to capture Eren, they’d feed him to an heir, and only Maria knows what they would do after that.”

  “They’d make their lie, truth.”

  “That’s not necessarily true,” Dahlia said. “I’m sure you’re aware of how easily motives can change.”

  “And what’s your motive, Dahlia?”

  “To protect Eren. To protect the rest of the world from the insanity it knew for almost two thousand years.” She leaned forward in her chair, locking her dark hazel eyes with Levi’s. “And if it’s possible to do so without harming Eren, to send that damnable curse back from whence it came.”

  There was a flutter in Levi’s chest. He bit back a grimace at the light tickling inside and repositioned his legs; left ankle resting on his right knee. Allowing this dream...the warm caress of hope against his heart was a precarious risk. All the same, his mind couldn’t stop his body’s involuntary reactions. He wet his dry lips. “Is that possible?”

  “Hanzal thinks it’s a possibility,” Dahlia said, stone-faced, “provided he was to possess all nine pieces of the soul.”

  “I won’t see him seal himself in a crystal for eternity.”

  Dahlia rolled her eyes. “As if I would suggest such a faulty idea,” she said, sounding genuinely offended. “The crystal is no guarantee against someone taking the powers. Look at what happened to Annie in your time.”

  “You’ll not feed him to an inheritor either.”

  “Your protectiveness clouds your mind, Levi.” Dahlia shook her head. “I’ve told you I have both your’s and Eren’s interests at heart. The entire organization does. Feeding him to another or forcing him into catatonia in a lump of mineral solves nothing.”

  “If I trusted you,” said Levi with a twitch of his brow, “your words would sound sweet.”

  “Stubborn ox of a little man you are!” Dahlia scowled at him and lowered her voice. “You have no one else to trust. Gunter is after Eren and by extension you. You’re a danger to him and his plans. He knows who you are, and regardless of this incarnation, your reputation precedes you. The Crown will no doubt find out soon enough; they have spies in Gunter’s ranks. They can raise support from the masses if needed. It would be you and Eren against the world.”

  “We’ve done it before.”

  “Not like this,” Dahlia said matter of factly. “Marley was a different matter. You had others conspiring with you and Hanji. The Uprising was a different matter, or do you have a rightful heir to take the throne?”

  “I can’t decide for Eren,” Levi said. “I don’t speak for us both.”

  “As you shouldn’t. He can make his own decisions.”

  “I won’t let you use Eren’s selflessness against him.” Levi looked over at Eren when he felt him shift at his name. He repositioned his head on Levi’s shoulder and smacked his lips in his sleep. “It’s happened in the past. It won’t allow it again.”

  “Noted.” Dahlia sighed and went back to her tea, watching Hanzal and Emelia from the corner of her eye.

  Levi rechecked his watch, if Eren weren’t awake in another half an hour, he would attempt to rouse him. He wanted to put his arm around Eren and tug him close, fold him up secure in his embrace and whisper words which were far too flimsy to ever carry his meaning. He closed his eyes to the room, concentrating on Eren’s heavy head pressing into him, disrupted only when he heard a sharp, patterned rap against wood.

  Opening his eyes, Levi watched Dahlia stand and flounce across the floor to the dusty wings of freedom banner hung on the wall. She pushed it aside and knocked back on a hidden wooden door. Three pounds, one breath’s pause, two pounds, three breath’s pause, one last knock.

  Whoever was on the other side responded with a third secret knock.

  After it came, Dahlia unbarred two robust wooden planks from the door and tugged it open with an unladylike grunt. The wood scraped against the stone, revealing a poorly lit passage swathed with a loathsome cobweb in the corner.

  Levi craned his neck, but couldn’t get a better look beyond the threshold with Eren resting against him how he was.

  Tapping her thick-soled shoe impatiently, Dahlia hissed, “It’s about time you showed up. The boys have been here for hours.” She planted her hands on her hips and stepped aside.

  Levi’s lips parted when the knocker walked through, revealing themselves. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Son of a fucking bitch…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always very much appreciated. :D
> 
> Accompanying artwork for this chapter of 'Toastvi' (drawn by yours truly) can be found on my Tumblr [here](https://ittybittyteapot.tumblr.com/post/177871513553/introducing-toastvi).


	20. Chapter 20

  Had Eren not been leaning on him and cuddling his arm, Levi would have risen. Barney was standing in the basement, tipping his feathered hat to Dahlia before he removed it.   

  “Apologies, Dahlia,” Barney said and rubbed half-melted snow from his arms. “I was making my rounds through the market. There was a fascinating kerfuffle at the cobblers concerning Dieter and a pair of purple boots that weren’t the right shade to match his cape...but I can share that later.” His smirk slid away, concern glazing his expression as he glanced at Levi. “So I take it the situation has changed?”

  “It has,” Dahlia said. She shut and barred the door. “Eckhard tried to take Eren. He shifted.”

  “Oh dear…” Barney took his usual strides as he removed his outer clothes, deposited them on the coat rack, then made his way over to Levi and Eren, and stole the leather chair Dahlia had been occupying.

  “You too?” Levi ground out a breathy laugh, sarcastic. He tasted betrayal on his tongue. Sour and acrid and sulfuric.

  “I’m sorry, Levi,” Barney said and combed his beard while worry creased his brow. He met Levi’s furious gaze.

  “You really like those novels?” Levi asked. “Or was that all an act too?”

  Deflating and pursing his lips, Barney didn't avert his bright blue eyes. His expression was regretful as a placatory smile came to him, and he sighed. “It wasn’t an act, my friend. I do adore Elsa Webster and books, and I’m truly sorry for having misled you all these long years.”

  Levi held back a snarky remark as a sinking lump formed in his chest. Barney had been coming into the bookshop since Levi had purchased it a decade before. He was at times trying, and his lengthy disquisitions on graphic romance novels and Elsa Webster’s ‘prowess’ as an author, in particular, could be exceedingly boring. Regardless, Barney was the only person Levi could apply the term ‘friend’ to before Eren came back to him. In all those years of solitude and loneliness, Barney had offered conversation and camaraderie, requesting nothing in return other than an ear and a bit of company. He hadn’t even expected a cup of Levi’s exceptionally brewed tea on most occasions.

  Releasing the breath he had been holding, Levi sighed and lifted his free hand. “So what part do you play in this?”

  Barney perked, offering a small twitch of his lips. “Grand Spymaster of The Secret Special Operations Division, at your service.”

  “So you’ve been spying on me?” Levi glanced at Eren leaning on his shoulder then back at Barney, adding, “On us?”

  “Looking out for you would be more accurate.”

  “Why you’ve been in more lately.”

  “Once Eren surfaced it was important to keep a closer watch. We knew Eckhard was skulking about.” Barney rubbed his hands together, looking apprehensive. “How is the lad taking it?”

  “What does it look like?” Levi asked. “Head’s fucked up. He was stabbed. Healing slow. They went and knocked him out with one Hanji’s old remedies.”

  Barney slumped and shook his head. “You have reasons not to trust us, but anything Emelia gave him is only for Eren’s good.”

  “Next time someone wants to drug him, they can clear it with us first.”

  “I agree,” Barney said with a stiff nod. “There can’t be secrets or obfuscation if you and Eren are to ever trust us.”

  Muscles tightening with resentful ire, Levi commanded his voice to remain even. “Abiding by some rules would be a show of good faith.” He shifted in his seat. Eren was pressing closer, hand flopping onto his stomach, sending a shock into his already strained bladder.

  “Eren looks to be stirring.”

  Levi could feel Eren’s head beginning to loll. Breathy whispers puffed against his neck. A whimpered, “Hold me. I need you,” warmed his skin. Then kisses against the edge of his jaw. Eren’s hand creeping up his chest, coming to rest over his cheek.

  “I’ll get Eren some water and something to eat,” Barney said, excusing himself. He walked away with pinking cheeks, eyes on the floor.

  “We aren't alone,” Levi murmured.

  “Don't care,” Eren breathed sleepily, turning Levi’s face toward him and nipping at his bottom lip. “I want kisses.” He flicked his tongue over Levi’s lips before plunging it between them.

  Other than his hand reaching up to Eren’s cheek, Levi sat mainly still as he kissed Eren back. He could hear the muffled sounds of the others in the room through Eren’s moans.

  Still, his body began to react, and he took Eren’s face in both his hands.

  Levi didn’t push him away when Eren groaned louder, though he wondered if Eren realized where he was or what he was doing.

  The greedy little sounds grew louder. Eren tried to straddle Levi’s lap. Levi’s heart lurched with hesitance as he pressed his palms to Eren’s chest and bit his lip, attempting to rouse him from his amorous haze.

  Eren disregarded it, begging, “Please” into Levi’s mouth, sloppy and wet and hungry.

  Hanzal squealed, then something shattered on the floor. He should be breaking away, leave Eren with a few lingering pecks then see if he needed anything, but he couldn't.

  Levi heard quick steps moving closer, then Eren’s lips were ripped away from his.

  “What the fuck!” Eren yelled. “Why’d you do that?”

  Hanzal was holding Eren’s collar. Her eyes were gleaming, mouth falling open. She released him. “Your cheeks are steaming. They’re healing!”

  Levi hadn't noticed it with his eyes closed, but vapors were rising from Eren’s face like they had when Dahlia interrupted them. The scars were thinning out, creeping away from the edge of Eren’s jaw, leaving smooth, perfect skin behind.

  “So they are,” Levi said. He reached out to touch Eren’s face.

  “Your lips are steaming too.” Hanzal leered.

  Eren was gaping around the room with a hand hovering near Levi’s. Levi followed his line of sight. Emelia was standing over a broken beaker looking somewhat shocked. Oskar and Hugo were laughing over their drinks while Jasper was gawking and red as a tomato. Dahlia was clutching the necklace hanging around her neck with a smirk, and Barney was buttering bread and smiling.

  Hanzal crouched down in front of Eren and pulled a pencil from her hair. She flipped through a notebook and started scribbling. “Did Levi bite them?”

  Eren touched his mouth. “I thought I was home. I thought I dreamt these people.”

  Levi rolled his eyes. “You didn't.”

  “You're foggy from everything and the medicine too.” Hanzal rubbed her nose. “Come on now, Eren. This is important. How do you feel? Does your head still hurt?”

  “A little,” Eren said, blinking at Hanzal. “I feel weird...who are you again?”

  “I’m Hanzal,” she said gesturing toward the center of her chest.

  Eren rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Hanji’s reincarnation, right?”

  “Indeed I am.” She poked Eren’s knee with the end of her pencil. “Now tell me how do you feel?”

  “I don’t know,” Eren said. “Sort of dizzy, floaty and strange.”

  “ _‘Strange’_ how?” Hanzal asked. “Do you feel sick?”

  “Fuzzy. My stomach hurts,” Eren said, adding in a hiss, “I felt better before you started asking me all these annoying questions.”

  “When you were snogging on the couch?”

  Eren’s cheeks darkened. “Yeah…” He nodded and took Levi’s hand. “So what!”

  “Maybe you should save your questions,” Levi said.

  “I have a theory.” Hanzal ignored Levi. “I think Levi has magic kisses.”

  “Magic kisses?” Eren asked.

  If Levi thought Hanji was nuts, her new incarnation was certifiable. She was bumping up and down from her place on the floor, grinning between him and Eren. “Not really magic. Hanji’s notes say you two used to hide up in your quarters for a day or two after Eren was sick...being rather _noisy_. Maybe kisses help Eren heal. Or they make you happy, and that’s what does it. Or it calms Eren. Or perhaps it’s love. Or…” she said drawing out the syllable, “it’s arousal. Do you have an erection, Eren?”

  “For Maria’s sake, what kind of question is that?” Jasper was somehow redder.

  “It’s for science.” Hanzal glared at Jasper across the room and slammed her hand on her notebook. “I’m not just being nosey. Levi might be able to help Eren.”

  “With kisses?” Jasper said skeptically. “Sounds like bullshit.”

  Eren glared at Jasper with a menacing, inward tilt of his brows. “Until you learn to steep tea, shut up.”

  “Truly Jasper,” Dahlia began, “stop being such a prude.” She added a pile of whatever she was preparing onto a plate. “Why don't you run upstairs and get some muffins. Eren could use the sugar. And stop looking so crestfallen, you should know better.”

  “Of course,” Jasper said with a defeated frown.

  “While you’re at it, add more scraps to the bathroom too.” Dahlia’s lips curved with subtle impishness. “Wouldn’t be prudent to run out.”

  Jasper didn't argue, only saluted and left up the stairs. When he was out of sight, Dahlia nodded and told them to continue.

  Levi pulled his lips between his teeth and sighed. The conversation around so many relative strangers made his skin itch. “She might be onto something.”

  “It doesn't sound entirely crazy,” Barney added, walking over with a tray of bread, cheese, and cured meats. He set it on the table with a cock of his head, rested in the leather chair again, and tended back to his cooling tea.

  Levi’s stomach growled, though he ignored it for the moment and let Eren dig in. “Earlier…” he began, pausing as he searched for tactful words, “his face was healing that way before Dahlia stopped over.”

  “Oooh!” Hanzal leaned closer and lowered her voice. “What were you two doing?”

  “I’m not elaborating,” Levi said, snatching a slice of pumpernickel and taking a bite. Given Eren’s condition, it was one thing to give in to his need for physical closeness when they weren’t in private, but he wouldn’t reveal where their hands were when Dahlia knocked.

  “Maybe later you could elaborate,” Hanzal said.

  Levi blew a terse breath out his nose. If only the three of them were privy to the conversation, he might dive into slightly deeper detail.  

  For all of Hanzal’s smirks, winks, and seemingly inappropriate questions, it was no different than what Hanji did in the past. Levi wouldn’t deny she was always a tad crazy and over-enthused. Sometimes, he thought her enquiries were due to an infelicitous fascination or to only watch them squirm; her own brand of playful ribbing. Regardless, in situations, as they found themselves now, like Hanji, Hanzal’s mind was running in a vein that was mostly scientific.  

  Frowning in concentration, Hanzal watched Eren devour bread and cheese as if he hadn’t seen food in weeks. “He’s still a bottomless pit,” she said.

  Levi shrugged and swallowed his bite. “The same as he used to be,” he said. “He’ll be like this for days.”

  “I’m right here, you know,” Eren said, scowling with his mouth full.

  Levi’s lower stomach tensed with a burning jolt when Eren dropped his hand in his lap and added, “I want some tea.”

  Rising, Levi tapped Eren’s arm. He was behaving strangely. Not as Levi expected. Quiet and level. His eyes were dull, but he was ripping into food like a starved street child who’d been given a loaf of bread. Levi had expected whining or ranting or indignant determination. Perhaps crying if something hit certain tender spots. He’d gone from wanting to fuck to stuffing his face. He didn’t ask questions. No enquiry as to what Barney was doing there. He hadn’t complained much. He seemed a might bit grumpy and short, but other than that, something felt off. Levi straightened his shoulders, wondering if it were the medication Emelia had given Eren.

  “Dahlia,” Levi called. “Customer washroom or somewhere else?”

  “Off the kitchen,” Dahlia said, grinding something in a mortar and pestle. “We can’t have the townsfolk seeing you here right now.”

  “You feel all right to walk?” Levi asked Eren.

  Eren nodded and stuffed a strip of cured pork between his teeth.

  “Come along then.”

  Eren swallowed and looked up Levi with wide eyes as his hand grappled for another morsel. “You can't take a piss by yourself? I’m hungry.”

  “No,” Levi said, raising a suggestive brow.

  For a moment Eren’s mouth sat opened, revealing his half-chewed lunch. Then he smiled and took Levi’s hand. “Okay,” he said. It was breathy and sweet even through pulverized pumpernickel and ham. His eyes glinted as if Levi had asked him to dance, not accompany him to the bathroom.  

  Eren wobbled when he stood. He shook his head and grasped Levi’s shoulder for extra support. His eyes were murky, face sallow. He had built something around himself. One of those cumbersome clouds that were dark and brimming and shrouded and kept him partially obscured.

  “All right?” Levi asked.

  “Better than earlier.”

  “Can I come too?” Hanzal asked, pushing herself up and setting her notebook on the table.

  Levi pinched his brow. “Fuck off.”

  Hanzal made a whiny sound and sagged back onto the floor, though she didn’t attempt to follow as Levi and Eren climbed the staircase with cautious steps. The air felt lighter as they ascended, hands entwined, Eren squeezing their fingers together, his thumb caressing the edge of Levi’s.

  “Bathroom’s around this corner to the left,” Eren said, tugging Levi along with surprising fervor. A peculiar burst of jubilant energy unfitting of their current situation.

  When they stepped inside, Eren shut the door and caged Levi against the wall. He pressed his thigh between his legs and slammed their mouths together as his fingers twisted in Levi’s hair.

  “Easy,” Levi mumbled against Eren’s lips. “You’re still swaying.”

  Hanging onto Levi, Eren pulled his head back. He eyed him as his lips turned down. He was frowning, his eyes were glazed, and he looked adorably disappointed. Like a puppy that just had its bone taken away. “I thought you wanted to be alone with me.”

  “I do,” Levi said, brushing his thumb over Eren’s cheek. He wanted to be home. He wanted to hold Eren in the bath and settle into bed, then not let go. He wanted Eren away from the basement and the organization members. Not because they weren’t helpful, or because of his lack of full faith or trust in them, but so he could observe Eren away from their prying gazes. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “We have to finish here first. I think they can help us.”

  “Okay,” Eren said. “You think they can?” He faltered for a moment, his knees buckling, and Levi caught him with an arm around his waist.

  Even on unstable legs, it was the first time since waking that Eren didn’t feel so fragile in his arms.

  Looking up, Levi fixed the sleep-tousled hair around Eren’s face. “I think it’s worth seeing if they can.” He walked Eren back to a stool in the corner and helped him to sit. “You okay?”

  Eren’s eyes flicked to the toilet. “I feel sick again.”

  “Going to throw up?”

  “I don’t want to.” Eren held the heels of his hands to his forehead and took a ragged breath. “It makes my head hurt real bad when I puke.”

  Snatching a small towel off the rack, Levi wet it with chilly water from the faucet. He wiped Eren’s face and laid it across the back of his neck. “We’ll get some ginger from Emelia when we get back downstairs then.” His lips pressed against the dewy skin on Eren’s forehead, his fingers stroking Eren’s hair as he massaged circles into his temples with his thumbs. “Okay for a moment?” Levi asked.

  A rough sound of agreement came from Eren’s throat.

  “Give me a minute.” Levi pressed one last kiss to Eren’s head and flicked his finger downward. “Concentrate on that chipped tile on the floor and take slow breaths. Not too deep.”

  Bladder ready to explode, Levi committed himself to taking the quickest piss in his life. He unfastened the fly of his pants, then his drawers, and untucked himself. All the while keeping watch over Eren. His eyes only shifted so he could aim before they were back on Eren slumped on the stool, head bowed toward the floor. Repressing a groan, Levi resisted the urge to pitch himself forward and lean on the wall as a smidgeon of stress uncoiled from his muscles along with the fading pressure in his dick.

  When he was finished, he didn't shake himself off, only closed up his trousers and washed his hands with the swift efficiency of a man being pursued.

  “Nothing feels real,” Eren said like he was speaking into a void. His fingers went into his hair gripping at the tangled strands as Levi dropped to a crouch before him and shook the water from his hands.

  “I’m right here.” Levi grasped Eren’s face, scratching his thumbs against a day’s worth of stubble as he stroked Eren’s jaw. “I’m real.”

  Meeting Levi’s eyes, Eren blinked back tears. “You're the only thing that feels real. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

  It was closer to a nightmare, and Eren looked like he was pinned with fright. Part of Levi wanted to give in to the same slicing, miserable claws tearing at Eren. To crumple together. To succumb in sympathy and allow the last bit of his thinning shield to fall away.

  For a moment, before Eren’s tears overflowed, it nearly did, but Levi unearthed a flinder of strength and fortified it as Eren clung to him, then broke.

  “It’s not real,” Eren croaked. “What if you stop being real too?”

  “I won’t,” said Levi as he slid his arms around Eren so he could feel his solidity. So he was bolstering Eren against the wash of disbelief.

  The last day felt like a dislocated parody. As though they had driven out of Trost and the storm above had engulfed them before it took them to another place. Gating them from boringly beautiful days of tea and bread loaves and quiet smiles.

  Still, Levi knew the frosty fist of reality. Like the cold, clasping hand of a monster that hid under children’s beds. He knew how it squeezed and choked and wound its fingers tighter in those moments after his heart dropped. In times when doubt and despair found a weak point and sneakily wended its way in. As if it was caustic smoke invading from under a door.

  “There’s too much in my head. I can’t tell what’s a memory,” Eren said in a dusty, child-like voice. “Like I slept late and dreamed too long.” He sniffled with his nose pressed to Levi’s shoulder. “If I let you go, they're going to eat me up.”

  “Don’t drift away.” Levi pulled back, bracing his hands on Eren’s shoulders. “Look at me.”

  He lifted his head as his muscles tensed beneath Levi’s palms. He appeared scared and small.

  Levi took Eren’s hand and lead it to his chest—over his heart. He met his eyes. Then he dragged Eren’s hand down to the chain on his pocket watch. “Does this feel real?”

  Eren choked but swallowed it and nodded. “Yeah…”

  “Then you focus on it.” Levi pulled the timepiece from his pocket and tucked it into Eren’s hand. “It’s real. It’s mine. Count along with it when you aren’t sure.”

  “It’s warm,” Eren said.

  “Hold onto it as long as you need.” Unfastening the chain, Levi pressed their brows together. He wanted to close his eyes and bask in Eren’s slowing breath, but he didn't and dropped the chain in Eren’s palm instead. “Whenever you are confused or lost, look at it.”

  “But you need it.”

  “I need you more.”

  Eren smiled one of those tiny smiles which came when he was trying not to cry. He ran his thumb over the engraving on the front, circling the intricate scrolls. Then he turned it over in his hand and traced the letter ‘L’ on the back. “I always thought it was pretty.”

  “Hang on to it.”

  “Do you want mine?” Eren pulled his watch from his jacket. “It’s not as nice as yours, but it’s very accurate.”

  Levi held out his hand, and when Eren placed it in his palm, it felt no less special or impressive than his own did. Even with the scratches and the tiny dent on the front cover.

  They mirrored one another’s movements, each opening what they had traded, examining the hands stepping around the faces of the miniature clocks. Eren’s watch had a strong tick. Like the beat of his heart. And though the outside was rather plain in comparison to Levi’s embellished piece, the hands of Eren’s were ornate with flourishes at their points.

  Levi snapped it closed, fastened the T-bar to his buttonhole, then slid Eren’s watch into his pocket. Eren was holding Levi’s to his ear, eyes blinking as he counted off the seconds.

  “You need more ginger,” Levi said, noting Eren’s pallor.

  “Not yet,” Eren said and chewed on his bottom lip. Steam billowed from where he bit it in a tiny, vaporous swirl. “A while longer.”

   Expressionless and limp, Eren stared at Levi. The scars still under his eyes were highlighted with tired bruises of unremitting fatigue. Dismay roiled beneath pinned pupils and benumbed irises. Bloodshot rivers invaded the whites, besieging Eren’s usual sparkling green.

  Something was anchoring Eren to the little wooden stool he rested on. Like weighted chains around his ankles shackling him to the despair he attempted to conceal.

  Levi wound his arms around him and pressed Eren’s face to his neck where he could hide. “Can’t stay in the loo forever,” Levi said into Eren’s hair.

  Fingers were digging into Levi’s shoulders, arms crushing tight against his ribs. Eren’s chest expanded in his embrace before warm breath blew against his collarbone.

  “I’m not afraid to die again, but I don’t want to leave you alone,” Eren whispered.

  “Don’t worry about me yet.” Such a stupid platitude breathed in Eren’s ear. As if he would listen. As if he wouldn’t fret. It was like screaming at a wall to tear itself down. Still, Levi wouldn’t lie. He couldn’t bring himself to say, _‘I won’t let you die this time.’_ Though the words simmered with unyielding conviction in his disconsolate heart, making their home there, warring with indomitable acceptance.

  “You’re an idiot.” Eren didn’t cry. He didn’t scream against Levi’s shoulder. “I used to be stronger,” he said with an exhale as he rubbed their cheeks together and held Levi tighter.

  He wasn’t any weaker. Eren was the strongest person Levi had known in any life. Perhaps it was the fount of cold indifference about his fate Eren pulled from during The Catalyst which allowed him acceptance. At that time, Eren was purpose driven and consumed with fiery vengeance and protectiveness. But he didn’t have the same spark of rage and sorrow propelling him in this life. The shield he had then didn’t exist anymore, and Levi wasn’t sure if he wanted Eren to build it up again.

  Loathe to admit it about himself, Levi gifted Eren with an admission. “We both were...” Quiet words, grated gritty against his tight, dry throat. “But not the right way.”

  “I can’t pretend much longer.” He huffed out a long uneven breath. “I can’t pretend I’m how I was before.”

  “It’s not that life,” Levi said, holding Eren closer until he could feel his warmth down to his stomach. He wished again they were home. He wouldn’t even bother with his bath. “You don’t have to.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  “No,” Levi said. “Fuck…”

  “I don’t want to cry anymore,” Eren said. “Not here.”

  “You need real rest.” Levi kissed Eren’s cheek. He whispered to Eren about making him cinnamon tea. Promised him a warm bath together before he’d wrap him up in his beloved blanket. Told Eren how he would let him be the tiny spoon and hold him as he slept.

  Eren nodded against him. “You need sleep too,” he said, fingers trembling on Levi’s back.

  “Tch.” Levi would watch over Eren. A guardian repelling nightmares while he dreamed.

  Their home felt leagues away when he pictured it. Like they would never climb the steps to their flat again or feel the clunk of the lock slip free before the door swung open. Levi wanted to hear the creaky board under his foot and stub his toe on that malicious little threshold which crossed the doorway to their bedroom.

  “I’m better now.” Eren leaned back. He set his hands on Levi’s shoulders, still clutching the pocket watch in his right fist.

  Clarity had returned to Eren’s eyes when Levi examined them, though they set off the vaguely greenish hue his skin had taken on.

  “You’re pale.”

  “I’m queasy,” Eren said, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand as he paused, “but I’m not going to puke right now.”

  Levi looked for another towel, spotting one alongside the pile of newsprint scraps next to the toilet. He swiped at Eren’s forehead with the soft cloth then handed it to him and grasped a handful of torn bits of The Daily Trost.

  Patting his face and the back of his neck, Eren gave Levi a questioning frown. “I can make it back down on my own if you have to take a shit.”

  “Payback,” Levi said, stuffing the pieces into his pocket. “Dahlia ruined our morning. She can spare this in return.”

  “Oh!” Snorting through his discomfort with a mild grin, Eren let out a breathy chuckle. “I almost got a splinter on Friday.”

  “Wednesday for me.” With a faint grimace, Levi recalled the roll of scratchy toilet paper. He cleared his throat. “Head back down?”

  “Okay,” Eren said, standing shakily, but under his own strength.

  “The sooner we’re done here, the sooner we can go home.”

 

*****

 

  When they returned, Dahlia was scolding Oskar and Jasper for trying to swipe muffins. Hanzal and Emelia were back to work at the desk, distilling amber liquid through what looked to be an over-complicated apparatus. Barney had shifted to the heavy wooden table and was paging through that book Levi wanted to get a look at. Hugo was sitting in the corner cross-legged, eyes closed. He appeared to be meditating.

  Levi tried to lead Eren to the sofa again, but he whispered a “no” and made Levi bring him to the table by the hearth with the others instead.

  “Feeling any better?” Barney asked.

  “A bit nauseated.”

  “He needs more ginger,” Levi said.

  “I’ll brew some.” Dahlia went to the stove.

  Eren sat heavily on the bench with his elbows resting on the table and glared at Levi when he took a seat next to him.

  “What’s wrong?” Levi asked with a frown.

  “Your head’s bleeding again.”

  Sighing, Emelia stomped over. “Will you let me take a look at that already? How are you supposed to take care of Eren while losing all that blood?”

  “Levi,” Eren said. He titled his face and gave Levi an admonishing expression, while his eyes pleaded with worry for sensibility. Levi nearly scoffed. Eren was the most stubborn person he’d ever known when he wanted to be.

  “If it will stop you from pestering me,” Levi said to Emelia.

  Emelia ceased frowning and moved off to the supply cupboard again. Meanwhile, Eren smiled.

  She brought over a small bottle of what Levi assumed was antiseptic, bandages, and instruments for suturing wounds. “You can handle the distilling?” Emelia asked Hanzal.

  “Of course I can,” Hanzal said with a scowl. “It is a minor alteration of my very, very, most effective and thoroughly researched recipe.”

  Levi removed one of his pocket knives and turned it over in his hand as Emelia unrolled a cloth and set the rest of her supplies out. “Consider this an audition,” he said, flicking his knife open, “don’t fuck it up.”

  She put on a brave face, yet swallowed thickly from what Levi could see of her reflection in the blade. “I assure you I know what I’m doing.”

  Eren raised an eyebrow but smirked in Levi’s direction.

  Levi leaned his head forward when Emelia nudged it. He watched Eren from the corners of his eyes as she cleaned the back of his head and his wound, remaining a vigilant guard as Eren sipped at a cup of ginger tea.

  It seemed the medication had done its work as Eren kept up a conversation with mainly Oskar, Dahlia, and Barney. Though he seemed distant. Cooler than Levi anticipated. Perhaps numb. Levi had expected more tears or Eren’s fury. The uncontrollable umbrage that usually followed similar episodes in the past.

  While the others filled Eren in on what he had missed during his nap, Levi silently observed Emelia’s precise and nimble fingers continue their task all the while keeping watch over Eren and an ear on the exchange. Oskar was just getting to the bit about Dahlia’s lineage when Levi saw Emelia grasp for the sutures.

  “Try and make it pretty, Bloomers,” Levi said, spinning the point of his knife against the pad of his thumb. He looked at her reflection in shiny silver.

  “‘Bloomers?’” Emelia asked as her hands stilled with the forceps clutched in them.

  “Yeah,” Levi began, “that’s what I’m calling you.”

  The others’ discussion died away as their heads turned in Levi’s direction. Eren’s right cheek had a tiny crease and a dimple softly poking into it.

  “Why ever would you call me that?” Emelia asked. Her voice hitched like feet sometimes do when a person is about to walk into a dark room but hesitate for a moment.

  “You can tell a lot about someone by the undergarments they wear.” Levi turned his knife again. “For example; my drawers are practical, plain, and clean...like me,” he said smirking. “Bloomers, on the other hand, are pretentious, fussy, and a waste of useful cloth. The kind of underwear a stuck up prude wears.”

  Levi looked at his knife as she gasped. Eren was snickering. Oskar and an awakened Hugo both mirrored each other with a snort, Dahlia looked mildly amused, while Barney and Hanzal both seemed to be studying the exchange as if they would be quizzed on it. Once again, Jasper looked like a fish as Levi had quickly learned he was wont to do.

  Emelia’s cheeks and forehead were rouged an angry red. Her face was pinched. “You don’t know anything about me.” She scoffed with the thread pulled tight between her fingers.

  “If I were the betting type, I’d say your bloomers are embroidered with your initials. I’d also bet that pointless flourish cost more than medicating a toddler for a cough.”

  “And what exactly are you implying?” she asked tersely.

  “Nothing,” Levi said. “It’s only I’ve never seen anyone who wasn't dressed by Trost’s finest tailor come in or out of your practice.”

  “I took over my grandfather’s practice,” she said, going back to work on Levi’s wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle for how angry she appeared. “Our referrals are most often through our patient’s families and acquaintances. I can’t help their stature.”

  “Your prices are shit,” Levi said as he felt the point of the needle pierce his skin. “But fancy bloomers are important.”

  “I don’t even wear bloomers.” Dahlia rolled her eyes.

  “And what do you suggest I do?” She was tying off the first stitch. “Start a free hospital run on donations?”

  “I once knew a bitch who ran an orphanage.”

  Eren’s ginger tea came out his nose. “She wasn’t that bad,” he said, wiping his chin and tears from his eyes.

  “Tch.” Perhaps she really wasn’t, but Levi had never particularly liked Historia, and Emelia had an air which was similar. At least similar to Historia after she became comfortable in her role as queen. Before that, she was a tad obnoxious in a different way. Something like a loud and jumpy, fluffy, little rabbit who enjoyed playing games.

  Levi pinched his brow for clarity. Emelia wasn’t completely innocent, but his spleen and irritation left him in a nasty mood, and she was a convenient yet unfair target. Not that he truly cared. There was always Jasper as an option to poke at too, Levi mused as his eyes darted to him tinkering with the gear like a child figuring out a puzzle again, though Eren seemed content to pick at Mr. Salutey a bit. That was enough for the poor kid at the moment.

  “This would be closing much cleaner if you had allowed me to look at it straight away.” Emelia was sighing, and Levi could feel her pulling at the skin with her little forceps.

  “It won’t bother me,” Eren said into his cup and turned his focus back to Dahlia, Barney, and the others.

  Of course, it wouldn’t, Levi thought.

  Clearing her throat, Dahlia leveled Eren with an expression which was lovingly serious. Not severe, or ominous, but it conveyed the weight of the subject Levi suspected she was preparing to broach.

  “Now that’s over with… my heritage,” Dahlia began, “as Oskar was about to reveal.” She smiled with sparkling eyes, and Levi could see Jean’s grin in it. “I am a descent of the Mikasa and Jean from your past...during the Titan War. My Great, great, great, great, great grandparents.”

  Eren bit his lip and chewed on it, staring at Dahlia with narrowing eyes. Levi surmised pieces were falling into place or memories were resurfacing. “My sister...” Eren whispered, “and Jean?”

  “Yes.” Dahlia nodded. “They were some of the original members of Hanji’s organization.” She laid her hand over Eren’s. “Do you remember them?”

  His lip twitched with subtle sentimentality. “No wonder you’re always breathing down my neck.” Eren looked back into his cup, tilting the golden-green liquid back and forth. His lips parted, shut in a tight line, then parted again as his tongue flicked out to moisten them. “I don’t remember as much as I want yet. But those two are clear.”

  “It will come, Eren,” Hanzal called from where she was hunkered over a small pot with a dropper between her fingers.

  “It’s not that,” he said, running the tip of his finger over Levi’s pocket watch on the table beneath it. “They survived...” he trailed off and sought Levi’s hand.

  “They did,” Levi said when Eren squeezed and smiled at him through watery eyes.

  “They had a daughter,” Dahlia added. “Her name was, Nadia.”

  “Must have been sad. I didn’t mean to leave them that soon.” Eren inhaled sharply. “But I’m glad they had a family, and that they lived.”

  Dahlia looked solemn for a moment. “Not many were left after the war, but those who were...that you knew...they made lives and began what you see here before you. We’re the product of their dedication and refusal to give up.”

  Levi was sure Eren wanted to ask more. He could feel his palm beginning to sweat, how his fingers tightened around his own seeking reassurance while his thumb drew a little circle over the skin at the base of his own. His brows were pinched, chin scrunching up. If they were home, alone, the tears would already have fallen. The guilt was there. Eren didn’t need to say he had intended to go until he couldn’t anymore. Until the curse took the breath from his body. He’d made it close, that dark day looming nearer like a shadow hovering each morning they awoke together, though it hadn’t happened how either of them expected.

  He let go of Levi’s hand and wiped at his nose. “Do you know if any of them ever came back?” Eren asked. “Like Levi and me?”

  “All Eldians return over and over. Sadly, we haven’t found many you would likely recall.” Barney licked his thumb and paged through the big fat book that was sitting in the center of the table. He spun it around in Levi and Eren’s direction. “There have been a few previous members other than Hanzal. Recorded in this section right here.” His knuckle knocked against the top of a page as he pursed his lips. “It’s a complicated affair. Finding folks, that is. Remembering the former lives such as you both do is unheard of.”

  Levi glanced at it, a long-forgotten feeling of senselessness scratching at him. He saw Nifa, and the names of two other soldiers he knew in passing. Ones who hadn’t survived past their first couple encounters with titans.

  Hugo unfolded himself from his place in the corner and joined them at the table. He leaned over his drink waiting for him. “Eren finding his way back isn’t as surprising because of the shifter ability, but you…” he paused looking at Levi, “that, I can’t explain.” Shrugging, he said, “Perhaps it’s the Ackerman blood, but I feel like it’s more than coincidence.”

  “How would you know then if they don’t remember?” Levi asked. “How do you find them?”

  Oskar groaned. “We don’t. Not really other than chance. Hugo can read the paths and see the connections to who someone was before, but we haven’t always had a path reader.”

  “It’s not a common ability,” Dahlia added. “And only those with Fritz blood can read them from what we can tell.”

  “But not all of them,” Hugo said. “I’m special.”

  Levi didn’t shake his head with Emelia still stitching. Instead, he clicked his tongue. “‘Special,’ aren't we all. Like snowflakes,” he said sarcastically.

  Hanzal put down the concoction she was working on, crossed her arms, and leaned on the desk. “There is something unique about you and Eren. That we know.” She scratched her head. “To come back together again, to remember.”

  “We’re always together,” Eren said.

  “Hmm,” Hanzal hummed, looking thoughtful. “I’ve been pondering that since Levi told us. Even Hanji didn't expect that kind of cycle.”

  Emelia finished off the last stitch and set her instruments down. She had been quiet as she worked, only speaking again as she unrolled a bundle of gauze. “They’re connected obviously,” she said, beginning to wrap the bandage around Levi’s head. “Star-crossed lovers...soul mates?”

  “No,” Levi said, rolling his eyes. His voice was clipped, too clipped given the disappointed look Eren was giving him. A bit shocked and glassy-eyed. Levi took a deep breath, Eren looked like he was about to cry again. “I don’t mean it like that.”

  Levi took Eren’s hand, pretending no one else in the room existed. That they didn’t have an audience. That he couldn’t feel both scrutinizing and admonishing looks alike. “What I mean,” Levi started, “I don’t believe it wasn’t our choice.”

  “I know,” Eren said. He took his hand back from Levi and focused on the pocket watch instead, smoothing his thumbs over it.

  “It’s a sound theory,” Hanzal said. “There might be a reason. If I had more information…” She pressed her knuckles to the center of her forehead.

  “I have diaries from other lives,” Levi said. “I’m willing to share some of them.”

  Hanzal squeaked. She looked like she was trying to contain herself as she marched in place and waved her hands. She leaned forward, straining to keep her voice down. “We can trade!” She swept her excited gaze toward Eren. “There are journals from Mikasa, Jean, and Hanji...Connie Springer too.” Her shoulders slumped for a moment. “That is if you would like to have a look at that them. They might help your head, Eren.”

  “Or make it worse,” Levi said.

  Eren sighed, rubbed his hand over his face, and shook his head. “It might. Not now. As much as I want to see, my head isn’t straight enough.”

  “How are you feeling?” Barney asked, “You’ve some color back in your cheeks.”

  “Not as sick,” Eren said. He took a deep breath and held it, then looked at Levi. “I just want to get this over with, so I know.”

  There was silence in the room, a heavy gloom infusing itself into every crack, dimming every lamp, shadowing the fire in the hearth. It seemed to press everyone’s shoulders down, save for Hanzal’s. She came around and crouched next to Levi and Eren. She looked them both in the eye, then at Eren again.

  “I don’t want you giving up. Even if you don’t have them all and it’s not Hanji’s dormancy theory we still have a chance.” She wet her lips and grasped one of each of their hands. “She was working on a cure for you and Armin back then, and there’s more research since then.”

  “And if I have them all?” Eren asked. His voice sounded eerily calm.

  She glanced at Levi and squeezed Eren’s leg. “Then we find a way to send them back for good,” Hanzal paused for a moment then smiled, “or we at least find a way to make them dormant again.”

  “You don’t have to bullshit me,” Eren said, taking a sharp sniff through his nose. “I’ve been here before.”

  “I don’t bullshit,” Hanzal said smirking alongside pertinaciously squinting eyes. “I can’t promise I can save you, but I promise I will sure as hell try. I can also promise after all these years, there’s a lot more to lay hope on than there was two hundred years ago.”

  “It’s not a mere coincidence these souls have found their way to you again,” Dahlia added. She turned toward Hugo. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded. “Whenever Eren is.”

 

*****

 

  They had set up a makeshift bed of sorts on the floor, near the couch Levi and Eren had occupied earlier. Eren had already laid down and was staring between the lamp mounted on the wall above and Levi’s face.

  “Is it going to hurt?” Eren asked. He clenched his fists where they rested at his sides. “It’s all right if it does, I’d just like to know.” He shrugged and put on that determined expression Levi knew so well. The bridge of his nose crinkling, while a canine pressed into his bottom lip. “Can’t be worse than getting stabbed in the lung.”

  “Normally it doesn’t hurt, no,” Hugo said, seating himself cross-legged on the floor behind Eren’s head. “Hard to say for sure with you having at least one of the souls though.”

  Eren looked like he was preparing himself for a final battle he may never return from. There was a stalwart, accepting fire burning in his eyes that Levi had seen in the past before so many operations only for them both to survive. To find their way back into each other’s arms. Safe and alive and breathing until that one day...they weren’t anymore.

  “What should I expect?” Eren asked.

  “Memories,” Hugo said. “Most folks don’t see much of them, but like I said, it might be different for you.” He looked at Levi. “Levi too when I get to him.” He stretched his fingers, turning his eyes back to Eren. “It’s important you say so if you need to stop. Don’t just go sitting up and breaking the connection. You’ll give us both a whopping headache. Probably make us puke too.”

  Eren nodded. He closed his eyes then reached for Levi’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m ready.”

  Levi caught one of Hugo’s wrists as his fingers moved toward Eren’s head. “I wasn’t fucking around earlier,” he said, narrowing his eyes, voice dropping, “if you fuck him up…”

  Hanzal skittered to his side and grasped his shoulder. “He’s not going to hurt Eren, Levi,” she said and leaned her face in front of his. “It might not be quiet or pretty...” she said, “but trust me.”

  He shrugged her hand off. “I know,” he hissed, releasing Hugo. “Just fucking get on with it.”

  The others were still keeping a distance, Hugo having advised them it was better to stay back, but Hanzal settled on the floor next to Levi and took his other hand. The weakness which nearly overtook him in the wee hours of the morning while Eren went in and out of consciousness returned to stab at him again. He focused on Eren, still lying there with his eyes shut. He seemed as though he was already drifting off. “Still ready?” he asked him.

  “Yeah,” Eren whispered with a nod and slight twitch of his lips.

  “Go ahead,” Levi told Hugo.

  At first, there was no change in Eren when Hugo’s fingertips touched his temples. His thumbs rested on Eren’s forehead over his brows. The skin below them was smooth and unmarred by any wrinkles or creases which could indicate discomfort. His breaths came even, slow, and strong. As if he were sinking into a deeper state of relaxation. Conversely, when Levi glanced at Hugo, his eyes were pinched, jaw tight, while his breaths came faster through his flaring nostrils.

  Levi looked at Oskar sitting on the edge of the bench across the room. He had his elbows on his knees and was leaning over, peering in their direction, but didn’t seem overly concerned. Levi wasn’t sure what was between him and Hugo. Either a profound bond of friendship or something more, but if anything were going amiss, Oskar would be the one to watch for clues of it.

  Eren’s fingers twitched around Levi’s hand when a whimper came. His neck tightened but relaxed as he swallowed, and Levi paid closer attention. Observing every bend in a joint, contortion of Eren’s expression, or jerk of muscle as the reading proceeded. His ears perked at each whine or moan, and Hanzal squeezed Levi’s hand every time he gritted his teeth while he resisted the urge to push Hugo’s hands from Eren’s body.

  He couldn’t check Eren’s watch, but the candle on the table had burned one-quarter of the way down when Eren whined louder than he had so far. Eren’s hand was clutching with more pressure, he hissed, back curving in an arch. He gasped and cried out, and Levi’s eyes darted up and down the length of his body.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Levi said from between lips pulled tight. He was hovering over Eren, slowly rising on his knees. Watching as Eren began to shake and drool. There were tremors in his arms. And Hanzal wouldn’t let go of his fucking hand.

  “He’s going to be fine,” Hanzal said, trying to tug Levi back. “Hugo is feeling it too.”

  Levi glanced at Hugo. His face was red, teeth clenched, breath coming fast and harsh, though the press of his fingers to Eren’s head didn’t falter. When Levi turned back to Eren, tears were coming from the corners of his eyes, his entire body was spasming. His left hand was creeping toward his open mouth. Then he called Levi’s name.

  Levi tore his hand from Hanzal’s and grasped Eren’s left before it met his teeth.

  Everything went black.

  He gasped in the darkness and blinked his eyes. He stretched his fingers, turned and felt for Eren beside him. He was on his side, pushed up against him, feeling so very small. Levi found Eren’s hand in the dark. It was also very small. Small and scarred and tiny in his own. He spoke; calling out, but the voice he heard wasn’t his own. A light flickered, casting glowing warmth over the figure next to him as they blew out a match.

  Levi saw his own features in the flame’s glimmer. His dark hair laying over his softening brow and a pillow as his own hand reached up and brushed the hair from the eyes he was peering through. “Nightmare?” he heard his own voice ask.

  “Yeah,” Levi said, with Eren’s voice.

  “I don’t like this room either,” the other Levi said before he was pulling him down and holding him to his chest.

  Levi remembered it. Remembered when he had said it. During The Catalyst when Hanji had them staying in that decrepit outpost by the coast and all Eren had done was thrash each night along with the waves beating the sand on the shore.

  He saw through Eren’s eyes. He could feel the jagged scar on his back through Eren’s fingers tracing its ragged shape. He tasted the salt of his own skin as Eren’s lips pressed kisses over his heart. Then he felt the smoldering of warmth and calm that washed over Eren as his fingers twisted in his hair. And he felt like he could stay there and never move.

  Levi closed his eyes before he was ripped away. He opened them to blinding, yellow-orange daylight blending with purple-grey clouds at sunset. Levi’s legs ran, long gliding steps as he smiled so big his cheeks hurt. Levi could see himself ahead, dismounting from his horse, his hair long and pulled back into a tail.  

  He felt the laugh from inside Eren’s throat, the joy bursting in Eren’s chest as he pulled Levi off the mount. Felt himself squirm in Eren’s arms. Heard his own voice scold, “Oi, put me down, Brat!” as Eren swung him as if he weighed nothing and held him close.

  Then Levi was being pulled along again, like a thread tugging him through a river current. Sometimes it was comfortable and pleasant, other times he banged into rocks. There were flashes of memory, sights, smells, sounds, voices, taste. Pain and pleasure.

  When he halted again, it was as if he was suspended, and then he fell.

  And he was Eren again.

  He was sitting against a wall with his arms wrapped around his knees. He was alone in the dark. Cold and shivering on the hard ground. His head cracked with lightning. Each jolt undimmed after the last and cutting like whips flaying open the corporeal suffering of Eren’s despair.

  Levi wanted to scream. He grasped at his hair, yanking and wondered where he was. He felt no thoughts of himself in Eren’s memory-mind. He didn't smell right. His mouth didn't taste right. His fingers were far too big. The skin was too tight. Levi and Eren saw a flash of teeth. They heard a howl, and he was thrown hurtling onward, unfettered through Eren’s recollections. Deeper, deeper, and deeper.

  His arms reached out, grasping at nothing but thin, immaterial atmosphere. Fingers cutting through imagery that swirled around his useless limbs like fog. Levi cried out when he crashed onto his back. Something soft and welcoming giving under his weight, cradling him as he opened his eyes to once again see through Eren’s eyes.

  Smokey grey was starting back him. Fingertips touching his cheeks, then lips on his neck murmuring words that made him say, “Never stop talking.” He swallowed and ran his fingers down his back as his hips slowly meet his own. Levi felt Eren’s chest swell and warm where he was trapped inside. Overwhelmed, stinging salt came to his eyes as he tried to get closer. In Eren’s voice, he heard himself pant and plea; “Closer, closer, closer... Levi, you’re never close enough.”

  And he wasn’t. No matter how much deeper he went, how hard he wrapped his arms around himself, it was never quite close enough, and it ached to the depths of where Levi’s shattered heart still lay, pulling at his own chest where his consciousness stayed buried inside Eren.

  Levi tried to ask in his own voice, “Can you feel me?”

  He didn’t hear Eren, but he felt something like an embrace from the inside and closed his eyes.

  When he opened them again, he was touching his own smiling face. Awkward, with dimples and teeth showing and his eyes sparkling back at himself. And inside Eren, it felt like a wellspring overflowed with every emotion Levi could put a name to and others he couldn’t.

  He tumbled again. Through the abyss of Eren’s psyche and his memories. Levi clutched at them. Tried to slow himself. It was like skidding head over heels down a hill, clawing at rock and grass and mud attempting to stop. Rolling backward, Levi slammed to a halt.

  Looking down, he saw Eren’s hand where his own should be. It was holding something smaller and colder and paler. Levi raised his eyes—Eren’s eyes—and he saw himself. Frail and grey and bedridden. There was faltering strength in Eren’s chest now and loneliness that grew like a malignancy with each shuddering sob he repressed.

  He spun after that. Downward like being sucked through the eye of a storm into the deepest recesses of Eren’s lives. Levi was looking at himself through wooden bars, his face pressed between them. His own expression looked sorrowful as Eren touched his cheek. “I’m sorry,” Levi heard Eren say before he passed a little muslin bag through the bars.

  The Levi behind bars shook his head and said, “I’m not.” He grasped Eren’s head and pulled his face closer, so their foreheads were touching. His fingers were scratching against Eren’s scalp and tugging at his hair. Levi said, “I’ll find you” and Eren choked on his cry as his world was turned to ash.

   It was dark then. Stained and cold as unbridled fury lashed inside Eren and Levi alike. He heard a voice; shrill and angry, growing louder. Garbled at first, then blaring like untuned instruments in the hands of a novice. “Give it back!” it screamed and demanded. “It wasn't meant to be yours! Give it back, thief!”

  Something sharp and hot pierced Eren’s chest through where Levi lay nestled in it. He wailed, his voice grating in his throat so loudly he became the scream.

  His body shook as Eren withdrew, leaving Levi alone in the void. Something hard collided with his head and back. He was yelling and shaking, crushing what was in his hands in a desperate grip.

  “Levi!”

  Something hit him in his face before warm breath was puffing over his skin. “Levi...open your eyes.”

  Eren’s voice was strained, worried, pleading. “Levi, please.”

  He heard Hanzal’s voice, though not as bright as Eren’s, like she was talking through cotton. “His head,” he heard someone else say. Then arms were wrapping around him and dragging him up against something warm. Levi inhaled, smelling Eren.

  He opened his eyes to the golden glow of the room and one of Eren’s wooden shirt buttons inches from his face. He stared at it until it came into focus, then craned his neck and saw Eren’s stubbly chin and gently twitching lips.

  “Are you okay?” Eren asked.

  Levi rubbed his eyes and looked at his own trembling hands as he held them before his face. They were small again. His fingers weren’t long and slender as they had been before he awoke. He clenched them into fists then stretched his hands open. “Yeah,” he said, cracking his neck. “What the fuck happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Eren said. “I woke up, and you were squeezing my hands. Your eyes were all white, and Hanzal couldn’t get you to let go.” Eren brushed the fringe from Levi’s eyes. “It knocked Hugo out I think.” Eren jerked his chin over Levi’s shoulder. “Oskar and Emelia are taking care of him.”

  Hugo was sprawled on the floor with a pillow stuffed under his head. His eyes were open, but they seemed unfocused, and Emelia was attempting to have him follow her finger while murmuring above him.

  Eyes still blurry, Levi’s crossed when Hanzal kneeled over him, her face inching closer and closer. She poked his cheek.

  “Do you remember anything?” she asked, blinking at him with wide brown eyes. “Do you know what happened?”

  Rolling off Eren’s lap, Levi rubbed his head as the blood drained from his face. Memories. He saw Eren’s memories. Some he recognized, some he didn’t. He wasn’t sure they all belonged to Eren. Many were personal, shared moments between only the two of them when he had felt Eren’s heart like he lived inside it. He got his legs under him, stood, and shook his head. “I was in his mind,” Levi said.

  Rising, Hanzal asked, “What did you see?”

  A cough from Dahlia drew his attention. She and Barney were hovering nearby, standing over the bedroll Eren had laid on for the reading. Dahlia’s thumb and fingers were holding her chin, and her breaths were coming long and slow. Barney’s hand was over her shoulder.

  “Nothing helpful.” He reached down, offering Eren his hand. “All right?”

  Eren rose, brushing off imaginary dust from his knees. “I’m fine. Better even.” He grinned.

  A crooked unbalanced smile that kicked in Levi’s guts. Eren was running the gamut of moods, like a children’s seesaw. A battle between up and downs and false numbness which left Levi longing to take Eren away from the cellar.

  He could see the storm behind Eren’s eyes when he met his gaze. Surety, absolute and unwavering when he said, “I want to go home.”

  Pressing his tongue against his teeth, Levi thought. Pondered why so sudden. If maybe the path reading had changed something in Eren or sorted him out. Whether the abrupt request was because he knew what Levi saw in his mind. Or perhaps Eren witnessing the memories seize him while they dashed him down to the floor was enough to sow mistrust with the organization and leave him fretting.

  Home sounded nice. Levi rubbed his temples as he turned his head. Hugo was stirring and pushing his fingertips against his eyelids.

  Eren pushed again, taking Levi’s hand. “Levi,” he said in a scratchy voice, “I want to go.”

  “Not yet,” Dahlia said, stepping over the bedroll toward them.

  There was a groan from Eren. He was buzzing. Levi could feel it like the static from the phonograph when a song ended. It caressed his skin like ghostly fingertips as it flared.

  “After we hear what Hugo has to say,” Levi said.

  “I’ve had enough for today.” Eren looked down at Levi with an irritated frown above pleading eyes.

  “Not much longer, Eren,” Hanzal said. “Why don’t you sit down. Hugo will be all right soon.”

  “No! I want to go.”

  Levi felt Eren’s anger surge. Steam seeped from his mouth. He was biting into his cheek.

  “Not yet,” Hanzal said.

  Pushing past Levi, Eren moved in on Hanzal. “What am I, a prisoner!” His voice was rising. “You gonna lock me up again?”

  “Stop being so melodramatic.” Dahlia rolled her eyes and frowned at Levi like she was asking for his help.

  The rest of the room’s occupants save Hugo and Oskar looked at Levi as if he should do something. That he should stop Eren as he stalked closer to Hanzal. He did nothing. Not yet. Eren needed to blow off steam, both literally and figuratively. He was like a chained thundercloud that needed to explode and rip its bindings away.

  “I remember that, ya know,” Eren said inches from Hanzal’s face. “Maybe you don’t, but I do!” His eyes were steaming, the scars on his face creeping back down to his jaw. Like rivers of rage.

  “You’re not a prisoner,” Hanzal said. Her voice was even and decidedly steady while she stood her ground, staring up at Eren with unblinking eyes.

  Barney moved toward them, but Levi caught him by the wrist and shook his head. Jasper was up on his feet as well, and Levi shot him a dangerous look. All sharp eyes and set jaw. The way he used to look at thieves and defilers when he was a homeless street-brat.

  “You didn’t trust me. Why should I think you trust me now?” Eren’s hands tightened into balls at his side, moving with slow, twitchy movements forward. His eyes were wild and menacing, but there was a trace of hurt in the set of his brows.

  “That was a different time,” Hanzal said, standing up straighter. Taller. Hanji would have laughed or hissed at Eren, and perhaps Hanzal would have too had she not only met Eren that day or if he hadn’t been through such an ordeal in the last twenty-four hours. “I want to help you.”

  Eren’s knuckles cracked. A bead of blood rose on his lip where he bit it. The sight of it blared like warning bells in Levi’s ears. Most of the others were visibly tense, surrounding Eren at a distance with slow, careful steps.

  Levi rarely used Eren’s name when addressing him, though he had raved enough. A furious and frustrated Eren was a force to be reckoned with. Another minute of confrontation and he would be breaking things. “Eren,” Levi said, his voice strong and low, “what time is it?”

  At first, Eren cracked his knuckles again, and Hanzal swallowed thick and heavy as she pushed her glasses up her nose. Then something inside Eren deflated as he turned toward Levi and slid a shaky hand in his pocket. He took out the watch with his right hand and rubbed the back of his left across his eyes. The cover opened with a click and Eren skimmed his thumb over the slick glass face. He looked at Levi again.

  “Four twenty-seven.” The flames behind his eyes died down with one last puff of steam as he clutched Levi’s timepiece in his hand.

  “We leave for home by seven,” Levi said. “No later.”

  “The day’s been trying,” Dahlia said.

  “I imagine anything left to discuss today can be done by then,” Barney added as his eyes fell to Hugo still laid out on the floor. “Provided Hugo can manage words.”

  “I can.” He let out a deep chuckle, sat up, and scratched his breaded chin with a smirk. “If that were as shitty for them as it was for me, I would guess they could use a good night’s rest. Probably about ten pounds of meat and potatoes too.” He rubbed his stomach. “I’m famished now.”

  “What the fuck happened to Levi?” Eren asked Hugo while Oskar and Emelia were getting him to his feet.

  “Should have told him not to touch you.” Hugo shrugged off any help and dragged himself to the table. He rested a thick hand on it and eased himself down to the bench. “Never happened like that before, but as far as I can tell, it was like completing a circle.” Grasping his forgotten tankard, he blew out a breath. “Your paths cross everywhere. They’re tangled too. I could see that before I lost it. Sort of like the yarn in Dahlia’s knitting basket. I reckon your bond or whatever you’d like to call it, caused it.”

  “He was about to bite his hand.” Levi crossed his arms. “I could have done nothing, and you all might be squashed under his titan’s ass right now.”

  “I’m not blaming you,” Hugo said, “or Eren.” He took a deep gulp of ale.

  “Maybe Eren should bandage his hands when he sleeps,” Emelia said.

  Hanzal tapped her chin. “It might not be a bad idea.”

  “Vivid dreams aren’t unheard of after a reading,” Oskar said. “Hate to see the bookshop explode, and Levi be crushed.”

  Looking at his hands, Eren slumped. “I guess I have to.”

  “There’s much to discuss, and I think we could all use a bit of tea to do it over.” Barney was smiling through a worried frown, sweeping toward the cabinets with more haste than Levi had ever witnessed from him. He was usually slow-footed even when he bounced toward a bookcase displaying something new and exciting.

  “I’ll choose.” Levi had had enough Earl Grey to not want another sip until spring. He turned toward Eren. “Suggestions?”

  “Oolong maybe,” Eren said. He shuffled toward the table wearily, seating himself and averting his eyes to his hands. “Anything but black tea.”

  “In the cabinet next to the stove,” Dahlia said.

  Levi stood on his tiptoes, sighing at the disorganization and tins set cockeyed on the shelves. It was a righteous mess. On the top shelf, he found a container of Dragon Tea half hidden by a jar of Gunpowder. Snatching it, he stuck the can out at Eren. “This?”

  “That,” Eren said with the first genuine grin he’d seen from him in over a day.

 

*****

 

  Once the tea was brewed, they gathered around the table. Dahlia had sent Jasper out to Braxall’s three doors away to fetch dinner. Something meaty and starchy and nutritious being her only instructions. Oskar and Hugo were starved having not partaken in the snack earlier that day, and Levi had to admit his stomach was becoming uncomfortably empty if he paid it any attention.

  “So Jasper’s the errand boy?” Levi arched a brow. He didn’t miss Eren’s smirk while he poured him a cup of tea.

  “Not exactly,” Barney said. “But he’s a junior member.”

  Dahlia huffed out a little laugh and covered her mouth. “I could use a break from his antics too, and everyone could do with dinner. His area of expertise is combat, and we won’t be dealing with that today. A natural with weapons, but a tad eager and unyielding.”

  “A tad,” Eren repeated. “He’s stiffer than Levi’s shirt collars.”

  “As to what shit we’re dealing with today,” Levi began. He planted his cheek against his palm and curled fingers, leaning to the right, toward Eren. “I’d like to get to the point and know what the fuck you saw, Hugo.”

  “I don’t so much ‘see.’ That’s not the right word,” he said, tapping his nails against the wooden surface of the table. “It’s fuzzy impressions, and the paths...feel like ribbons or taking a horse down a trail.” His shoulders pulled up to his ears before they fell. “That’s the best way I can make you understand.”

  “So what happened during the reading?” Eren asked, shooting a look at Hanzal who was on her knees next to him on the bench, practically leaning over his shoulder.

  Hugo pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was like trying to break through a wall at first. I had to kick at it, you know. Something in there didn’t want me poking around.” He passed Oskar his tobacco pouch and pipe. As if through divination he knew he wanted it. “Far as the souls...I saw The Progenitor first...well not _it_ really, but it’s a heart everything connects to. I could sense the paths of everyone in this room and beyond tied to it.”

  Eren took a sip of tea, looking sternly into his cup. “I have my own memories from it from the last time now. It’s like inheriting myself.”

  “Grisha too?” Hanzal asked.

  “Yeah…and some of the others. I feel the Attack titan too. It’s the strongest...like it was the last time.”

  “Interesting...” Hanzal said, looking heavenward in thought. She reopened her notebook and poked the lead of a pencil against her tongue. “Is it like remembering someone else or yourself?”

  “I can’t-”

  Levi raised a hand. “Let’s worry about the rest for now,” he said, sensing Eren’s unease. The dark circles under his eyes were growing darker, droopier.

  “After I got inside,” Hugo continued, “I looked for the others. I don’t know a better way to explain it than the shifter paths are thicker. You can’t feel through them like the regular ones.” He looked at Levi, pausing with the weightiness of his next words. “What’s tied between you two is like that as well. It was a knot to unravel or more like follow.” He took a long draught of his drink. “No reason to draw out the conversation dramatically,” he said, “they’re all there. I know for sure.”

  “All nine?” Levi said, raising his head from his hand. No one seemed remarkably surprised, and Levi indeed wasn’t himself. Still, his chest fluttered, and his limbs went stiff as he held his breath.

  “Why me though?” Eren asked. “How?”

  “You’ve been looking and waiting, I theorize...or maybe they have. Over and over again,” Hanzal said. “It’s possible they’re drawn to you.”

  “But _why_ , dammit?” Eren asked with an expression that made him look like a child. Somehow pitifully angry and dismayed at the same time. Though not enough to shroud the fierce flame of his spirit beneath it.

  “That I don’t know.” Hanzal shrugged. “Maybe because you were the only one to ever possess so many other than Ymir. Maybe you were the most powerful. Maybe you have unfinished business. Maybe your favorite food is the same as theirs.”

  Levi rolled his eyes.

  “You love Levi. Maybe they love him too.”

  “Now you’re being stupid,” Levi said.

  Hugo nodded and chuckled. “I don’t know the why or how either, but there’s something else too,” he said, his eyes sliding from one side of the table to the other. “What it is though, I can’t tell you. I tried to penetrate it...that’s when Eren got jumpy, and Levi went and grabbed him.”

  “Regardless of what you think you felt, we have to assume it was dormant until now,” Hanzal said. Her voice was high again. Excited, almost elated.

  “So my thirteen years starts now…” Eren didn’t cry or grit his teeth, though he didn’t seem relieved either as he fixed Levi with a melancholy smile.

  It was too real now when Levi thought of it, more than it felt even when he had climbed Eren’s titan and cut him out. That was surreal. Like being in a dream. On autopilot, emotionless, and numb in the moment. He could have almost fooled himself into believing he was having a nightmare.

  “That’s what I think,” Hanzal said. “It explains why you are still alive. The theory is that if the nine ever consolidated in one shifter, they could remain dormant. That is until you shifted.”

  “So it’s why he didn’t heal before,” Emelia added.

  “That’s my guess,” Hanzal said.

  “Thirteen years is a long time for Hanzal to devise a cure,” Barney said. His brows were drawn down along with the corners of his mouth.

  “Gunter already wants to consume Eren.” Dahlia worried her scarf between her fingers. “If he finds this out-”

  “Finds out what?” Jasper was back with bags hanging off each arm and a heavy looking clay casserole dish in his hands. He pushed by Hanzal and placed it down.

  “He has the nine,” Dahlia said to Jasper.

  With an air of surety and his determined idiocy, Jasper set the bags down. He crossed his arms. “We need to leave right away then.”

  “Leave?” Eren asked and turned his head toward Levi. “Leave where?”

  “Trost.” Oskar leaned back in his chair and poked at the bowl of his pipe with the point of a penknife. “You can’t stay here...though we’ve got a few days to plan,” he said, turning his attention toward Jasper. “So don't you go getting hasty.”

  Other than a hissing sneer, Jasper ignored Oskar and fetched bowls and silverware, passing them around the table with the quiet efficiency of someone trying to impress.

  Levi rubbed his forehead and glanced at Eren wreathed in confused irritation. He wanted the chance to talk to Eren himself about leaving when they were alone again since their brief time in the washroom hadn’t provided it. At that time, he couldn’t focus on much else other than trying to get Eren’s head on track and give him a moment to let out everything he was unwilling to in front of the others.

  “But my job,” Eren said, “Levi’s shop.” He slammed his fist on the table top. “I’m not going to run away...and where would we go anyway?”

  “To the far north,” Barney said. “To HQ. You both need to train.”

  “And that’s where my lab is. I need what I have there if I’m going to save you,” Hanzal added.

  “I thought this was your headquarters,” Eren said.

  Dahlia shook her head. “This is a safe house. A meeting place.” She adjusted a button on the cuff of her sleeve as the corners of her mouth rose pridefully. “HQ is secluded and safe. You need to be far from cities and settlements to learn to handle your shifting again.” She cocked a brow at Levi. “And you both need to practice with the new gear.” She reached to pat Eren’s hand. “And worry not, your job will be waiting for you.”

  Levi scoffed at the notion of the new gear. He had his old equipment. It was tried and trusted. The weapons he had noticed Jasper working on were sleek and slick and fancy, but aesthetics and flashiness had never been a substitute for durability and meticulous craftsmanship. Regardless of the island’s isolation, new technology had been made, but Levi had found—though convenient in some cases—workmanship had become shoddier.

  He wouldn’t argue over the details now. The day had been too long and arduous, and by the set of Eren’s shoulders, he was tense and ready to be set off if he didn’t get him home soon. He would have gotten him to his feet and departed then if not for dinner being spooned by Jasper into Eren’s bowl then his.

  Eren’s spoon was in his mouth before Jasper had even finished doling out Levi’s serving.

  Soon murmurs were exchanged for the sounds of knives and forks scraping on china piled with seasoned mutton, sweet parsnips, onions, and potatoes.

  Turning a fraction of his attention toward his meal, Levi huffed and tucked in after everyone else. They ate in contemplative silence, lost in their own musings, and for Eren’s sake, Levi didn’t dare crack the fragile quiet.

  As his first bite met his stomach, it contracted thankfully, and he had to stop himself from releasing an undignified groan. He watched Eren barely chew before each swallow, but the color was returning to his cheeks. A faint rosy glow highlighting a diluted and concerning shade of his usual tan. His skin was ashen before, enough Levi was beginning to believe it would take a week for him to fully recover.

  Nudging Eren’s elbow with his own, he caught his attention. “All right?”

  Eren gulped then gave him a heavy look as his eyebrows scrunched together. Longing and taxed and something that plainly said, _‘I need you to hold me. Please put me to bed.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated.


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